


Healing In Motion

by hawkhome348



Category: Dancetale - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Dancetale (Undertale), Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Author Commentary, Author Is Sleep Deprived, BECAUSE HURT COMFORT IS MY JAM YALL, Bechdel Test Pass, Control Issues, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancetale, Dancetale Sans (Undertale), Depressed Sans (Undertale), Developing Relationship, Did I say ‘punpocalypse’ I meant TAGPOCALYPSE, Don't Like Don't Read, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frisk is kind of a dick but they got better, Gentleness, Grillby is top tier wingman and advice dispenser, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Insecurities, Interspecies Relationship(s), It Gets Better, Kissing, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Nerdiness, No More Resets (Undertale), Non-Sexual Intimacy, Nothing depicted graphically tho, Oh yes, PAPSCAPS!!!, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Past Torture, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Sans (Undertale), Psychological Trauma, Rape Recovery, Resets suck, SOUL Mechanics (Undertale), Sans (Undertale) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Sans (Undertale) Remembers Resets, Sans has Nightmares (Undertale), Sans is patient as all get out, Sans is still kinda iffy about them to everyone else’s complete lack of awareness, Sans why are you such a goddamn sweetheart, Scars, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, Soul Magic, Tags Are Fun, Teasing, There's A Tag For That, Trust Issues, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Worried Papyrus (Undertale), aka the unasked for unpaid second job of the bartender, but they help each other aww, but you never will, current as well kinda though it’s gotten better, happy endings???, i mean come on this is post-aborted-geno true paci timeline sooooo yeah that’s implied af, i'm a stickler for accuracy mmkay, im sorry bartenders everywhere, in the second chapter no less, it made more sense writing it that way, it takes a while for anyone other than the skelebros or Grillbz to show up, lol who knew - it actually does though, magic is SUPER IMPORTANTE IN DANCETALE MMKAY, may as well roll with it, mental health discussion, most of it was for research, my apologies, not beta read we die like men, now if only you’d take as good care of yourself, prepare for the punpocalypse, so uh OC was originally supposed to be a reader insert... oops, strap in its a, tag olympics, thats the way the cinnamon bun crumbles, that’s what Papyrus is for apparently, then they developed their own personality and I just kinda went, this is really just a giant ball of dark why are you even reading this, well and the main OC I guess, welp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:20:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 74,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27450346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkhome348/pseuds/hawkhome348
Summary: ***UPDATE: my leg is doing much better and i'm walking again!!, even if it's with a cane still. so now it's just a matter of recovering that buffer a little bit.so i'm switching to every-other-week updates just to give me a chance to catch up and have a somewhat-healthy buffer back. weekly updates will eventually resume when stuff's in better shape.thanks for your patience y'all. <3 <3 <3***What happens when two broken people with pieces of themselves torn out and missing, find those missing pieces in each other??find out on the next Dragonball Z~~~~~~~a Dancetale romance!fic. prepare for tears, funny tags aside this is some srs biznas-THIS IS YOUR "DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT" SIGN-character credit to teandstars / Toby Foxthanks also to Kamari333 whose works helped me figure out a few characterization issues I had along the way!!!rated “M” for mature language and psychological themes. there *may* be future smut in which case i’ll change the rating or post the smut under a separate sectionEDIT: updates every other week on Saturdays!Also, if you are inclined to, please leave comments, I adore them ❤️❤️❤️
Relationships: Papyrus (DanceTale)/Mettaton (DanceTale), Sans (DanceTale)/Original Character(s), Sans (Undertale)/Original Character(s), Sans (Undertale)/Original Female Character(s), Undyne (DanceTale)/Alphys (DanceTale)
Comments: 178
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _It was a beautiful day outside. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming... After all, spring had just arrived in Ebott City, and the earth was waking up from its long winter’s nap._
> 
> _But perhaps Sans’ favorite sign of spring was the park’s hotdog stand reopening for the season._

It was a beautiful day outside. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming...

After all, spring had just arrived in Ebott City, and the earth was waking up from its long winter’s nap. In addition to the robinsong and the first of the crocuses and daffodils poking out from the snowmelt-nourished dirt, the trees were starting to put out buds, the temperatures were rising at last, the sun was out for longer, and even the sky appeared just that bit more brilliantly blue.

But perhaps Sans’ favorite sign of spring was the park’s hotdog stand reopening for the season.

He was on his lunch break, and he had wandered a couple of blocks over to see if the stand had finally, _finally_ set up shop this week. As he had every other day for the past three weeks. If his luck hadn’t panned out, he would have just shortcut to the sub shop that was two blocks in the other direction.

Today, however, the last Wednesday in March, was apparently his lucky day. Happy birthday to him. Belatedly. Sans didn’t hold himself back from dousing his two ‘dogs in as much ketchup as he wanted, allowing himself the modest celebratory splurge. He didn’t care that the middle-aged human vendor was shaking his head behind his back sadly, as if it wasn’t at all the first time he’d seen the skeleton monster with his hood eternally pulled up do this exact thing.

Making sure to not spill the precious condiment all over his fingerless gloves, Sans moseyed over to the nearest dry park bench in order to enjoy the fresh air while he lunched (the third bench down). He’d already scarfed down two-thirds of his first hotdog by the time he eased himself into the seat gracefully, the wooden slats hardly creaking under him given his subtle, controlled technique. He had a solid half hour before he needed to start back. He could take his time.

Despite having felt nobody approach him while ordering and paying for his meal, he still took a cautious look around, sockets peering distrustingly from under the visor of his cap that was tucked under his hood, to make sure it was safe and he wasn’t going to be bothered. Couldn’t be too careful. 

Satisfied by the lack of eyes on him – it was too cold for most humans still, and the only other park-goers seemed to be a small crowd with a radio on the other side of the green that were more interested in their own affairs than the outside world – he finished the first portion of his lunch, delicately sucking the remnants of ketchup from his fingers rather than lose a single drop to the napkin he’d grabbed.

Life on the Surface wasn’t all that bad, sure. He had steady income that provided a living, even if it wasn’t at his bro’s dance studio, like Papyrus would’ve preferred. Not like he was going to tell his brother why his profession on the Surface involved neither the lab _or_ a club or studio. Some things just weren’t worth discussing. But hey, aside from the odd racist (and they _were_ blessedly few), the past shy-of-a-year since monsterkind’s emergence from the Underground had been relatively smooth and harmless sailing. Sans couldn’t complain.

Except that he felt so disconnected from it all.

It wasn’t just the lack of “music” in his life, or the lack of his responsiveness to it. As much as Papyrus harped and fussed over him about it, it was far more than just that. But Sans refused to ever expose his brother to the knowledge of the resets. Not him. Not his baby bro. Yet other than the kid, who was in school these days along with Toriel, no one else knew, it was more or less his burden to bear, and it was many a moment when Sans did manage to let slip his usual tight hold on his feelings, and his mind did wander, that it wandered to how alone he felt despite the happiness surrounding him.

Sans quickly shoved the distressing thoughts from his mind. It’d be a hard fix, out of his power. If he focused on what he couldn’t control for too long, he’d _actually_ lose control. Pointless to worry about something when worrying wouldn’t solve the problem.

Now, _lunch_ – drenched in delicious ketchup – _that_ was something he could solve immediately.

He’d just started biting into his second ‘dog when hoots and cheers erupted from the far-off crowd.

It wasn’t just Sans’ ever-on-edge nerves that caused his skull to swivel in the crowd’s direction – anybody would’ve looked up at the sudden noise, really. Still, after making certain there were no other entities he needed to keep an eye on – his finely-tuned senses gave him no sources of emotions in the park, outside of the crowd and the hotdog vendor – he watched the assemblage more closely, squinting to see what it was that had them so excited.

The first thing he noticed was the attire of the human group: more or less athletic, sneakers, sports jackets, sweats, yoga gear, and lots of baseball caps – much like himself, actually. They appeared to be standing in a circle, some space left in the middle. Entertainment of some sort, maybe?

Curious, Sans stood and made his way closer.

He almost regretted it, _almost_ – he could now hear the heavy hip-hop beat playing from what must have been that radio he’d seen earlier, and observe the preparatory sway of hips and shoulders from those who waited their turn to dance. _A freestyle meetup._ _Pff_. Like he wanted to be around _that_ for long.

But something caught his eye, made him stay. What unfortunate (fortunate?) circumstance on his part, approaching in time to catch the moonwalked exit of the previous dancer, and taking their place, a woman about his age, light-haired and no taller than him, C-walking into the middle of the ring.

Something in the way she kept her knees and legs light and bouncy made Sans think she might know what she was doing.

And she did not disappoint. She was mostly a blur except to his well-trained eyes; kick-stepping and cross-stepping, feet shuffling and then freezing, on her toes and then back again, suddenly bending to the floor from the waist up in a widened stance only to rise to full height again, spine winding like a snake, like _water_ , arms flowing just as fluidly between bouts of locking to accentuate moves she had just performed or certain phrases of the music.

Sans was mesmerized by this girl, darkened sockets glued to her as she launched into a combo made up of moves he readily recognized: a TLC, falling into a Pin Drop (which got a cheer, as it well should have) in time with the lyrics, a brief Barbie before leading directly into a Party Machine. _Keeping it old school, nice._ She moved with grace, with athleticism.

Not much in the way of power moves, but what did that matter – she was still so talented, so surefooted, so _in tune_ with the rhythm, letting the song speak through her body.

In a way he hadn’t been able to do in ages.

A myriad of emotions steamrolled through Sans in that moment, all competing for his attention, _awe_ and _jealousy_ and _shame_ and _fear_ each vying to be what took prime seating in his SOUL. _Ah, yes, that old fear._ He couldn’t let it win today. That would only make his situation worse, wouldn’t it? A self-fulfilling prophecy?

He fought to focus on any of the other emotions, one of the more positive ones. He settled on his _admiration_ for her – it was easy to mirror off of all the other humans in the dance group – coupled with a bit of _attraction_ on his own part. Hey, she was hot. So were her moves. Nothin’ wrong with thinking that to himself. So long as he didn’t act on it invasively, anyway.

Heh, not that sticking around this place was going to work out for him. Not when it only made his SOUL fight to burst free from the cage he’d long put it in, made him relive old times before everything went to Hell.

The hollers of the group caught his attention one last time as he saw the object of his distraction Reject-step backwards out of the proverbial arena for another to take her spot. As much as he wanted to at least compliment her – it was as much genuine as it was cultural to acknowledge soulful movement like that – he knew he only had so long for his lunch break, only so long to quit torturing himself with thoughts of the past. _And besides, what if these folks caught on to his presence? Or worse, knew enough of his culture to ask him to join?_

Sans tore himself away from the spectacle, turning tail and traveling as fast as he could without running outright back in the direction of the garage where he worked. Taking large bites from his hotdog as he went, he did his best to center his mind back onto the day ahead of him.

He was definitely going to need a drink later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy meets girl  
> \- boy runs with tail between legs  
> :(  
>  _Stop bein so shy boyo_
> 
> So erm hi welcome to this silly little series detailing a ~~self-indulgent as hekkkkk~~ cute lil relationship where two wounded people help each other “move” through what ails them *w*  
> been workin on it since COVID and finally posting it, kthxbai *hides*
> 
>   
> _-get ready for puns boys and girls and otherwise identified_
> 
> (bonus points if you spotted the puns I put in this intro chappy)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two human women looked up sharply to see a skeleton monster at their tableside. “ya need any _body_ t’ make more puns with? ‘cause if so, i’m happy to _disk_ -uss bad humor with ya.”
> 
> Both girls froze at first. Then, in utter shock, Tabitha cried out: “... Oh _no_.” 
> 
> Her friend, on the other hand, grinned as widely as the newcomer. “Oh _yes_.”

Tabitha finished wiping off the patient table and changing the paper on it before her next appointment arrived for the afternoon.

Sighing deeply, she straightened, inspecting her work before going to toss the old paper in the larger garbage bin in the back. _Fridays always seemed way too long._ She still had two patients left before she could call it a day. Well. At least the music playing softly on the radio had a good beat to it.

As she eased the crumpled ball through the flip-lid over the big trash barrel, her friend and co-worker Robyn exited the back room. She exhaled theatrically as she passed Tabitha. “ _Haaaah_ , Friday blues.”

“You said it.” Tabitha stopped by the hand-wash sink before going to retrieve the file of her next patient at the front desk. _Focus on your work, it will help_.

Robyn seemed headed to the same place. “Still up for our TGIF hangout tonight?” she said, nabbing a manila folder from her own row of appointments for the day before handing Tabitha her next file.

“‘Course. You know _I’m_ free, it’s always up to you basically.” Tabitha scrutinized her next patient’s file. _Lateral high-ankle sprain, high school athlete._ Kids that age were a crapshoot as to whether they’d be entitled, or cooperative. Fortunately, she’d already met with this girl for the past two weeks, and knew she was the latter.

“-Good! So, there was this new bar I wanted to try this week.”

Eyes still on her patient file, Tabitha began the walk back to her work station to prep the various tools she would need during the appointment. “I’m listening.”

“They don’t just have drinks, they have food too. Pretty _good_ food, apparently. Sandwiches and burgers and typical pub stuff, but the ratings are high. The place is supposedly only a few months in, so it being this well-rated out of the box says something, I think.”

“... Huh.” Tabitha had already gotten out a set of small cloths, as well as some elastic bands. “Sure, I’m down.” Robyn had always been better at scouting out more-than-decent places, and the prospect of not having to scrounge up dinner elsewhere first was more than welcome. Two birds, and all that.

“Perfect.” Robyn began heading over to her own bed. “I’ll load up the menu on my phone so we can figure out our meals before we go, barring any specials.”

Tabitha smiled. Tonight’s break from life, as always, would be a very welcome diversion. “Thanks, Robyn. I’ll take a look before my next-”

She’d spoken too soon; the bell attached to the front door jingled as a teenaged girl on crutches vaulted herself inside.

“... _next_ patient.” Tabitha put on her best customer-service smile, though it wasn’t as fake as it could have been, seeing as she actually liked this “customer”. “Hey, Mikayla! Ready to get to work?”

“-Hey Tab! Gimme a sec, I drove so I gotta let my parents know I’m here safe.” The girl sat on the waiting-area chairs long enough to pull her phone from her jacket and make a call, leaning her crutches against the seat beside her while she waited. “... Hey Dad, I’m here. – Uhhhh, physical therapy? Didn’t you check the family calendar?”

Robyn and Tabitha took a moment to shrug at each other helplessly, and Robyn echoed Tabitha’s earlier sentiment with a half-whispered, “I’ll let you look before your last guy.”

“Thanks, Robyn.” By now the new arrival had finished her call, and she was back on her crutches, headed for the table Tabitha was positioned next to. “Heyo! How’s your ankle this week?”

* * *

It was already dark outside by the time Tabitha pulled up to the bar Robyn had picked out. Fortunately, she could see Robyn standing outside waiting for her from a ways off, so she didn’t need to approach the front door in her car to check, instead able to turn into the gravel parking lot that sat right next to the building.

As she walked towards the front awning, Robyn shot her a huge grin. “Hey, you made it!”

“Not too hard to find.” Tabitha examined the neon lettering above the entrance. _“Grillby’s Too – Bar and Grill”_. Huh. Wonder what the “Too” was about.

“Let’s head in, I’m freezing my damn buns off out here.” Robyn had already pushed the door open before her, holding it for her friend in back.

In full agreement, her arms folded close to her core, Tabitha willingly followed. “Ugh, it was so much warmer earlier this week, why’d it have to get cold again all of a sudden?”

“You’re _always_ cold though,” Robyn teased as both women’s eyes adjusted to the darker, warmer lighting of the establishment.

As soon as Tabitha could see again, she could make out the main room of the bar, situated to be longer back-to-front. Along nearly the entire left side was the bar counter and its stools, not all of which were full at this early hour – maybe only a third. To the right of the counter was a row of miniature high-top tables surrounded by two or three tall stools each, followed by a section of the floor left open for travel before the booths against the far-right wall. The bar wasn’t fancy in its decoration choices; red walls, warm wood and brass – though the speakers were pumping out good tunes, with plenty of bass.

What _was_ notable about the bar was its clientele. There were some humans; but for a large part, the majority of the diners and drinkers at this bar were various species of monster. The bartender, in fact, was one as well – a fire monster, wearing spectacles and dressed in a buttoned shirt and vest, which were somehow not getting burned by his physical composition.

Robyn strode ahead to grab a high-top towards the middle of the bar, not caring about the makeup of the bar’s population. That was one of the things that made them such good friends, their shared open-mindedness about people in general. Tabitha’s only concern in her own case was her scholarly curiosity over the clothed fire monster (many monsters required specialty clothing to fit their differing shapes – maybe there was chemically-treated clothing for monsters like him? Or it could be _magic_ clothing – with monsters and magic, you never knew!) before she tore her eyes away long enough to safely seat herself at the table Robyn had chosen. 

“Did you get to decide what you wanted while we were still at the office?” Robyn asked her, slingshotting Tabitha’s mental focus back as well.

“I did,” she replied, nabbing the tent-folded piece of printed cardstock that had specials on it after Robyn had already grabbed the laminated mini-menu that had been standing in the table’s center.

Robyn made a face before perusing the menu. “Pff, typical.”

“Hey now, I didn’t get to the booze yet, I’m not _that_ far ahead of you.” Tabitha’s eyes narrowed at the drink specials. Most of what was there was still winter-oriented fare, too much tropical or white chocolate for her tastes.

“... Trade ya,” Robyn said after a moment, brandishing the actual menu at her. “Anything interesting for specials,before I narrow down from what I saw earlier?”

Tabitha laughed and took the plastic from Robyn, exchanging menus in opposite hands. “Take your time, slowpoke.”

“You _wish_.” Robyn’s expression brightened as she saw the menu Tabitha had just handed her. “Ooh, I’m thinking a Crabapple Smash.”

“Hmm...” Tabitha’s eyes roved the mixed drinks portion of the menu, to a series of four items at the top left of the list, boxed off into their own category. “Snowed In”, “Fallwater,” “Lava Land,” “NewHome-Fashioned.” Interesting names, those. _Were they based on something Underground-related?_

Looking closer, she was particularly intrigued by one of them. “... Yeah, I’m pretty much set.”

“ _Please_ tell me you’re trying something you can’t have somewhere else,” Robyn admonished her.

Tabitha smirked mildly at her friend. “You’ll be pleased to know that I am. Did you see the Fallwater on the drinks side?”

Robyn snatched the menu again to look over Tabitha’s shoulder. “... _Malört?_ Isn’t that shit supposed to be gross?”

“Only if you like fruity shit, like you.” Tabitha yanked the menu back playfully. “And besides, it’s only a dash. The rest is Curaçao and violet. Plus some sort of tea leaf, but it’s muddled in.”

Her friend only shook her head, though it was more in loving jest than anything else. “Daredevil.”

“Hey, lady, let me have my fun, would ya? If I’m getting a cocktail so you don’t look weird, at least let me get something I’ll enjoy.” Tabitha stood the menu back up on the table, grinning.

She always appreciated the fast-paced banter with her ~~only~~ closest friend. It overrode her constant background thoughts, gave her mind something else to keep busy with. She needed it. _Mind in the present. Focus._

Indeed, Robyn was about to make a witty retort, if it weren’t for the human waitress in all-black attire who came over to them at that moment. “Hey, welcome to Grillby’s, what can I get started for you?”

“I’ll have... the loaded nachos, and a Crabapple Smash,” Robyn began. “Thank you.”

“I’d like wings, medium heat, and a side salad please,” Tabitha added. “And to drink, water, and a Fallwater. We’re also splitting checks, just so you’re not caught off guard.”

“Alright, thanks for the heads-up.” The waitress finished penning down the rest of the order before looking up again. “The drinks will probably be out before the food, FYI.”

“We figured, that’s totally fine,” Robyn assured her, before flashing a smile. “Thanks a lot!”

“No problem, I’ll put that in for you then!” the waitress finished as she walked away.

Now that the late-wintry chill had finally left them, Robyn removed her coat, folding it onto the third stool at their table, before removing the work-required hair tie from her long black frizz and letting it fall loose. Tabitha did the same, her dirty-blonde waves coming free to hit their full length just past her shoulders. Both women sighed happily. Robyn sloughed out, “ _Thank God it’s Friday._ ”

“God, I needed this,” Tabitha agreed. “Today was a better day, but I swear to heaven I got the people who all woke up on the wrong side of the bed earlier this week.”

“Yeah, I noticed the elderly ‘gentleman’ you had yesterday afternoon,” Robyn sympathized, a hint of bravado-style sarcasm creeping through in her description of the patient in question. “Clearly it was your fault he broke his hip to begin with, couldn’t be age-related, no sir.”

“Like, you know, the guy who had the hip _replacement_ this morning was a total sweetheart,” Tabitha lamented. “Like, we’re here to help, I know you’re in pain but don’t take it out on _us_ please.”

A Migosp-type monster brought a water and a bright-green drink in a footed rocks glass. “ _Your Fallwater is on its way,”_ he added, as both women turned to briefly thank him.

“Ooh, Crabapple lookin’ pretty,” Robyn commented as he left. 

“Better taste as pretty as it looks,” Tabitha snarked at her.

“Oh hush, just because your drinks come out piss-brown doesn’t mean they _taste_ like shit.”

“Not tonight, Curaçao! Might be blue.” She took a sip of her water before continuing their previous topic. “Too bad today had to be _your_ day for devil clients. At least you get tomorrow off, huh?”

“Too true.” Robyn absentmindedly stirred her drink, politely waiting to try it until her friend’s had arrived as well. “Speaking of Saturday, you being stuck in the office... you got plans tomorrow night?”

“Not unless you’re inviting me to any, no,” Tabitha answered. “Otherwise, I got a hot date with some Shiraz and some TV reruns.”

Robyn started to purse her lips in disapproval, but was interrupted by a different busboy placing a nearly electric-blue drink in front of Tabitha, a layer of dark purple seeping from the top towards the bottom, where ground-up leaves had already begun settling. Her expression changed on a dime, eyes widening in admiration. “Oooh! Okay, I stand corrected, for tonight at least. Don’t know if I’m gonna try it though, with the Malört and all.”

“Suit yourself. Cheers to another week under our belts.” She lifted her drink as Robyn did hers, and the satisfying _clink_ of glass-on-glass sounded out between them.

“Heck yeah.” Robyn finally took a tentative sip of her Smash. “... Huh, more sour than I expected, but it’s still sweet enough that I don’t mind it any.”

“Hehe, sissy.” Tabitha used the straw to gingerly stir the purple that must have been the violet liquer into the rest of the drink, rendering it a muddy indigo color and bringing the leaves up into the rest of the height of the Collins glass, before bringing it to her lips. “... Huh, this is pretty good. You won’t like it though, it’s herbal as fuck.”

“Hah, true to fucking norm for you.” Robyn set her glass back down on the table. “... Anyways, I was gonna say, that doesn’t have to be your only option for a ‘hot date’.”

“I take it that means you’re booked.” Tabitha took another gulp of her drink (which, _wow_ , it was so evocative, entirely reminiscent of grass and flowers and bitter herbs that might grow by a riverbank).

“Yeah, have dinner with my sister, after I help my mom out tomorrow afternoon.” Robyn eyed Tabitha. “Don’t swerve the subject on me, though. I know you’re fucking lonely.”

She trained her senses as best she could on the unique taste of the cocktail that was occupying her mind so well, because _please for the love of everything don’t let the background crap bubble up, leave it alone Robyn I’m_ fine _._ “I’m not,” Tabitha demurred aloud. “I have the park crew on my big day off.”

“But you still haven’t gotten closer to any of them.”

She couldn’t argue with that. But she still tried to. “So? I get socialization out of it, I’m no hermit. Plus they already know _my_ history enough that it’s awkward to get to know them back.”

“ _Tabitha_.” Robyn was more on the side of frustration now. “It doesn’t have to be a guy even, like, I’d worry less about you if you even just got, like, a _dog._ ”

Tabitha shrugged casually. “Can’t, what would the dog do home alone while I’m at work all day?”

“... Okay, fair, that’s not kind to the animal,” Robyn relented. “But you don’t need to keep making excuses for not seeking out _something_ , you know?”

It was Tabitha’s turn to set her drink down, a reaction more bitter than the Fallwater gracing her posture. “What excuse is there? I have _no_ luck, and I’m not interested in getting burned again.”

Robyn let out a long sigh, staring sadly at her friend, who was in turn staring into her blue-purple-herbal drink forlornly. “... Aw, sweetie. I’m sorry. I know it’s scary, but... it’s going _tibia-_ kay.”

Neither of the women noticed the skeleton monster sitting at the bar counter turn his head slightly.

Tabitha groaned. “Robyyyyyyyyyn.”

“I know you secretly love them and you need cheering up right now, don’t tell me to stop,” Robyn teased right back.

* * *

Sans could hardly believe his ears, despite not having any. _Someone behind him had just made a bone-related pun._

But when he turned his head to see who the heck this unknown punster was, he could hardly believe his sockets either – and those weren’t inclined to lie to him, perceptive as he was.

_It was the same girl he saw dancing two days ago at the park._

His eyes went pitch-dark.There she was, dark-blonde hair with visibly dark roots, being accosted by another woman who must have been her close friend, since despite the fact that she was clearly not into the same brand of humor, she wasn’t leaving her behind, merely chastizing her instead.

For number three: he could hardly believe his _luck_. Here she was, right _there_ , and it wasn’t in a situation where, if he talked to her, he’d be necessarily forced to talk about dancing, either her skill in it or his retiring from it.

The kid had promised, said he deserved it. He could try to even out how it had gone before.

And the Universe had practically dropped this amazing opportunity right into his lap.

_He couldn’t very well NOT try._

Mind made up, Sans finished his drink (for that extra liquid non-courage, and not for the first time cursing the promise he’d made to his brother) and got up to introduce himself.

* * *

At the table, Tabitha continued her complaints without missing a beat: “Oh my God Robyn no. No puns. Not now,” a slight whine appearing in her last syllable.

Robyn only smirked wider. “Tabs, if you’re ever gonna find what you want in life, you gotta _walk_ out that _gait_ you’re trying to close!”

Tabitha’s groan traveled lower in register this time. “ _Robynnn_...”

“-sorry t’ interrupt you two but, i couldn’t help but overhear your punning.”

The two human women looked up sharply to see a skeleton monster, wearing a blue hoodie, a black cap, and black track pants, standing alongside their table. His toothy grin hardly moved when he spoke, and a single white point of light shone in each of his otherwise empty orbital cavities. “ya need any _body_ t’ make more puns with? ‘cause if so, i’m happy to _disk_ -uss bad humor with ya.”

Both girls froze at first. Then, in utter shock, Tabitha moaned out: “... Oh _no_.”

Robyn, on the other hand, grinned as broadly as the newcomer. “Oh _yes_.”

“Robyn, do _not_ ,” Tabitha begged her.

“Tabs, if there’s anything we and especially you need right now, it’s a bunch of good laughs.” Robyn held her open palm out in an excited gesture towards the monster, before placing it on her hip demonstratively. “Perfect opportunity, and I’m not gonna _waist_ it.”

“oh- _ho!_ ” the skeleton chortled back at the pun she’d snuck in.

“More like _bad_ laughs,” Tabitha muttered sullenly. “He said ‘bad humor’ himself.”

“hey, either way. ya don’t have to, but, mind if i join ya?” the skeleton offered.

“Abso-friggin-lutely, please,” Robyn smiled, taking both hers and Tabitha’s coats into her lap so that the new guy would have a place to sit. “What’s your name, stranger?”

The skeleton stuck out a hand to shake, his motions fluid and smooth, graceful. “i’m sans. you guys?”

Robyn did not miss the way the little pupil-like lights in his eyesockets watched Tabitha more than herself while asking his question.

She took his outstretched phalanges, with a huge and knowing smile. _This was going to be interesting to watch and see if she was right_ _._ “Robyn DuBlanc. Nice to meet you, Sans.”

Not yet comfortable enough with the situation to chance more than her first name, the other human politely responded with her own offered hand: “... Tabitha.”

Sans shook her hand as well. “nice to meet you ladies. and hey, i don’t wanna be intrusive, so feel free t’ kick me off your table if my puns bore ya outta your _skull_.”

“-Oh my _God_ , Tabs, this _guy_ ,” Robyn cheered. “Considering your, uh, species, I guess you’re able to make a skele- _ton_ of bone puns, huh?”

“- _Oh my God Robyn you cannot just say those things,_ ” Tabitha seethed, mortified.

“heh, nah, it’s okay, i’m not offended. not like some might be.” The guy called Sans shrugged good-naturedly. “ _ulna_ ’t tell a lie, my brother isn’t a fan of my jokes himself, in spite of everythin’. but between you ‘n me, i personally think puns ‘re pretty _humerus._ ”

Robyn let out an almost ugly-sounding guffaw, even as Tabitha tried to hide behind her hand. “Too bad for your brother though,” Robyn responded. “And anyone else who thinks jokes about the body are just too _core-knee_!” she cracked, touching her own stomach then her bent leg to highlight her punchline as Sans let out a mighty chuckle in appreciation.

Both of Tabitha’s hands were on her face now. “... This is going to become an all-out pun war, isn’t it.”

As Sans clambered up into the stool that had been freed for him, his grin – and his gaze at Tabitha – did not abate. “eh, callin’ it a ‘war’ might be a bit of a _stretch_.”

“Tabs, how can you not like these puns, you’re way too _stern-_ um,” Robyn added.

“If this is going to become about annoying me senseless, you can stop, you’ve already won.”

“don’t have t’ be about just that,” Sans replied with a smirk that he had gentled a tad. “that’d be settin’ the _lum_ -bar pretty low, there.”

“-Although if we tried, we could probably raise it _thigh_ -er!” Robyn finished, slapping her hand on her own thigh for emphasis.

“ _hahaha!_ ” The skeleton now sitting with them held his forehead in his hand, overcome with mirth. Being as well-tuned to motion as she was for her profession, Tabitha couldn’t help but notice how restrained, how _dance_ -like his natural gestures were. “jeez, your friend’s pretty good at this,” he commented, making eye contact with Tabitha as he did.

“ _Don’t remind me_ ,” Tabitha ground out as she took another hearty sip of the drink that she was _most certainly_ going to need if she was going to get through tonight in one piece.

“looks like ya two are pretty good car- _pals_ ,” the skeleton continued in his rolling baritone, a sly wink of one of his sockets and a wave of one hand’s phalanges accompanying the gag. “what brings ya all the way t’ this part of town?”

Robyn answered for the both of them: “Little Friday-night post-work celebration. We have a usual bar we go to, just tried this one on a whim. But we always drink together Friday nights, you could say it’s a, _sacral_ tradition!”

“-hah!” Sans barked out, before resuming normal (if you could call it being pun-laden “normal”) conversation. “well, i’m glad you’re tryin’ this place out, they _cerv_ -ical good drinks here. even better, they don’t cost an _arm_ an’ a _leg_!”

“Hahaha, oh my God!” Robyn reacted gleefully, before adding a question of her own. “Is that why _you_ come here?”

“eh, that’s only part of it, but t’ _patella_ the truth grillbz is a good friend a’ mine. bartender and owner back there,” he pointed out with a thumb over his shoulder. “fire guy.”

“I guess he decides the drink menu too then?” Robyn laughingly mused, taking another sample of hers. “Gotta say, he’s a great mixologist.”

“true, he’s got years of experience t’ show for it.” A wicked twinkle lit up in his eyelights. “he’s a _spine_ judge of alcohols, that’s for sure.”

“Okay, I gotta start catching up to you, you’re getting a little too a- _head_ of me here,” Robyn cackled.

“nah, pretty sure we’re _neck-and-neck_ so far.”

“-You two are killing me,” Tabitha moaned softly.

Robyn’s smirk only got bigger. “Tabs, we wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t so much fun to _rib_ you.”

Sans pseudo-innocently nodded in Tabitha’s direction. “this has most definitely become a _joint_ effort.”

Robyn smiled to herself. _This wasn’t the first time he had directed a pun more at Tabitha than at her._ “We’re not gonna _fib_ -ula to you, Tabitha, you’re only making this worse on yourself. Actually, though, I could use a _break_ , heh, do you know where the bathrooms are here?”

“down back an’ to the left,” Sans offered, pointing a helpful bony phalanx.

“Thanks a lot. Hey, Tabs, come with?”

Tabitha drained the last of her glass and lowered herself from her stool, happy to have the chance to be free of this pun chain. _Stupid-yet-simultaneously-clever wordplay, infuriating. She was never comfortable mentally existing on that level, it was so foreign to her, her banter with Robyn had been progression enough._ “Sure.”

“Do you mind watching the table for us? We have food coming and all,” Robyn asked.

“sure,” Sans smiled, giving another hearty wink, and a cheeky wave. “happy t’ lend a _hand_.”

“Ahahaha, oh my _lord_ , this _guyyy_.” Robyn had slid down from her stool as well, leaving her coat but bringing her purse. “Alright, see you in a minute.”

Tabitha caught the sight of their company touching two fingers to the visor of his cap before she turned to follow.

Her friend led the way, pulling her sharply into the multi-stall women’s room before rounding on her as the door swung shut behind them-

Only to hear Robyn say to her: “-Oh my God, that monster guy is _flirting_ with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robyn knows what’s up
> 
> ***MAGIC DOUBLE UPDATE WHOOO***
> 
>  _"sorry to interrupt you two but I couldn’t help but overhear you punning"_ = Sans' proper first actual line in this series, oh no XD
> 
> Sans: *hears pun*  
> Sans: TARGET ACQUIRED
> 
> … ok so now that ive inundated y’all with puns, _get ready for even more~~~_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “He’s interested in you, not me,” Tabitha muttered petulantly, but she followed Robyn back to their table, where the aforementioned skeleton-monster was no doubt awaiting them.
> 
> And he was. Tabitha could not help but notice that not only did his sockets seek _her_ eye contact first, but they lingered, for an achingly long moment, before he turned to Robyn instead.
> 
> Was Robyn right?

“-Oh my God, that monster guy is _flirting_ with you.”

“... What?” Tabitha spluttered back at her friend, incredulous.

“I _mean_ ,” Robyn responded, sounding more than a little bit like that Crabapple Smash was hitting her harder than she meant for it to, before having any of her starchy carbs to soak it up. The carbs that had had yet to arrive at their table, in fact. “-that he’s flirting with you. Duh. What, did you think that was a euphemism for something else?”

“Um, Robyn, pretty sure it’s you he’s after,” Tabitha corrected gently. “ _You’re_ the one he’s been making puns with for the past ten minutes.”

“Oh come _on_ girl, have you missed the way he looks at you after every one he makes? He’s not there to impress _me_ , that’s for sure.” Robyn balanced an indignant hand on her hip. “You’d have noticed him watching you if you weren’t busy hiding yourself from our wordplay.”

“Your pun war, not mine, I’m not obligated to participate,” Tabitha replied, though she felt a prickle of sweat line the back of her neck at Robyn’s insistence. _Was he really paying that much attention to_ her?

“Don’t be put off by it,” Robyn urged her, placing her hands on Tabitha’s shoulders. “ _Embrace it_. He’s being respectful. Even if it’s just as friends, you need more friends than just me nowadays. Plus he’s pretty cute.”

“ _This_ is what we came to the bathroom for? Really?” Tabitha uttered, eyeing the door nervously, as if there could be someone standing outside of it who would become privy to all of her secrets. There wasn’t – the lack of leg-like shadows underneath the jamb told her as much – but the fear was still there. “-No thanks. Not interested.”

“Come on, don’t tell me it’s ‘cause he’s a monster.” Robyn cocked her head, prematurely disappointed. “He’s got that athletic-wear thing goin’ on – you like that aesthetic, right? Plus he’s not pushy, he’s actually kinda sweet and considerate, so that’s different from your past experiences, _right_?” she finished pointedly.

Tabitha threw her head back with a sigh, rolling her eyes before bringing them back to meet her friend’s. “That’s not it, and you know it.”

“Look, you don’t have to participate, just... think about it, okay?” Robyn’s hands lowered to Tabitha’s upper arms, her face crossing into one of platonically adoring concern. “Try to see what I’m seeing here. Look up every so often, see how he’s looking at you. And don’t let your stupid pessimism over this get in the way, for once.”

“I still maintain that he’s interested in you, not me,” Tabitha muttered petulantly, but she followed Robyn’s lead of washing her hands before trailing her back to their table, where the aforementioned skeleton-monster was no doubt awaiting them.

And he was, sipping at what looked to be a mojito as he looked up to see the two friends making their way over. He grinned widely at their approach – and Tabitha could not help but notice that not only did the points of light in his sockets seek _her_ eye contact first, but they lingered, for an achingly long moment, before he turned to Robyn instead.

_Was Robyn right?_

“Thank you so much for saving the table for us,” Robyn told him once there was only a yard of distance remaining.

Looking around, desperate to hide her sudden shyness, Tabitha found herself nonetheless grateful for his staying at their spot, seeing as the crowds had at last begun to pour in, as would be so inevitable of a Friday night. Space would be – was – at a premium, now, and if not for him, theirs would surely have been claimed.

The skeleton monster’s grin only widened. “heh, no problem. without company it was a lil’ _bonely_ for a bit, but it’s all good now.”

Robyn erupted in laughter, while Tabitha erupted instead into a long, breathy groan. As Robyn eased back into her stool, she returned, “Well, now that we’re back I’m just going to have to work harder to de- _feet_ you at this pun game!”

He raised his glass in a mock-cheers. “i accept your challenge, but i think you’ll find at the end of the night that _you’ll_ be the one takin’ it on th’ _cheek_.”

Tabitha prayed for something, anything, to take her focus back off of this for a while – their bathroom run had, in her opinion, not been respite enough. To her immense delight, the same Migosp from earlier re-appeared, bearing a plate of warm chips piled high with cheese and toppings, and a platter of steaming bone-in wings. “ _I’ll be right back with your salad,”_ the busboy hummed.

“Any way you could put another Fallwater in for me, too?” Tabitha asked, hopeful.

“ _Sure_ ,” the Migosp replied, before buzzing away.

“Ah, food!” Robyn exclaimed, before delicately removing a cheese-laden chip from her plate. She stopped suddenly, eyeing their new companion. “Um, hey, something you’d like to order?”

The skeleton monster ( _what was his name again? Sans?_ ) waved a hand lazily. “don’t worry ‘bout me, i’ve eaten already.”

“... Okay, sorry for going ahead then.” Robyn side-eyed Tabitha’s wings enviously. “Trade you.”

Tabitha dumped a wing on the side of Robyn’s plate, nestling it into the chips so it would safely stay on, and made sure to nab a pair of chips that wasn’t totally naked. The volume and flavor ratios had to be fair, after all. “Get going on your starches, lady.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” Robyn managed to eat her meal rather fastidiously, despite the inherent mess that comprised it.

Sans, meanwhile, was eyeing their meal choices. “next time you ladies come back, y’should try the burger here.”

“Oh? That good, huh?” Robyn responded, reaching for more chips.

“ohhh yeah. best back underground, back when.” Another wink (which, in hindsight to Tabitha, was rather strange considering skulls shouldn’t have eyelids). “i’ve only tasted marginally close since comin’ to the surface. doesn’t skimp on the meat, somethin’ t’ really sink your _teeth_ into.”

“That’s its own turn of phrase,” Tabitha griped aloud, trying to let the heat of the wings overpower her senses. When the Migosp appeared at her elbow again with a small salad and another Fallwater, she was thankful to be able to face away from the punny skeleton to offer her thanks to the busboy.

The skeleton only narrowed his eyes at her with a wry smirk. “oh? so i have t’ be _original_ , huh? very well then,” he declared. “i have other praises for the food here, too. your wings, for example... heard great things about those as well.” He leaned back, casual, suave. “it’s _nacho_ average bar grub here.”

A pause, while Robyn giggled. Tabitha frowned. “I’m just egging you on, aren’t I.”

His eyelights twinkled. “i dunno, but if you’re gonna _drop_ egg puns, i’ve gotta _shell-_ uva lot more.”

Tabitha’s eyes widened as she finally realized the accidental pun she’d made herself.

As Tabitha let out another weary groan, Sans turned to Robyn again. “so ya say this’s an after-work thing? what d’you guys do then?”

“We work at the same place, PT. Our job is to take your skeletal and _musc_ _le_ systems from _knotty_ to nice,” Robyn cracked, with a sly smile.

Sans grinned back. “ahhh, physical therapy. gotta say, that’s a pretty _hip_ profession t’ be in.”

“Hah!, we literally had a guy who’d had a hip replacement this morning, nice!” Robyn responded, before grinning herself. “But yeah, no, it’s nice to help other people who need it. Very much a field where we’ve _got your back!_ ”

“heh, well, that explains th’ theme for puns you’ve been goin’ off of,” Sans chuckled, going for another sip of his drink.

“Here’s a damn body-systems pun, you’re both a _pain in my ass_ ,” Tabitha growled.

“aww, sorry about that, didn’t mean t’ _cramp_ your style,” Sans retorted playfully.

“Haha, oh man.” Robyn finally finished her first drink, now that it was safer to. “So now that we’ve talked your nonexistent ears off about ourselves, what do _you_ do for a living?”

Sans jokingly felt the sides of his skull. “heh, my temporal plates seem intact at least. and, well, i guess y’could say we’re in pretty similar lines of work,” he answered. “if you’re mechanics of th’ body kind, then, well, i’m a mechanic of th’ four-wheeled kind.”

Robyn’s smile went wide. “Hey, four wheels, four limbs – either way, both are our _vehicles_ for movement in the world, right?”

As Sans’ face lit up, Tabitha nodded approvingly, for once. “Wow, Robyn, that one was actually kinda sophisticated for you.”

“Gee, _thanks_ Tabs, glad to know you have faith in me,” Robyn pouted with false bitterness.

Sans laughed outright this time. “think ya meant t’ say ‘ _ph’lanx’_ , there,” he finally corrected.

As he and Robyn chortled in unison, Tabitha lowered her head back to her food. If she was lucky, she could engross herself enough in her meal and the great music (and her Fallwater) to be able to tune out these two jokesters.

* * *

A solid hour-plus passed, during which Robyn and Sans kept trading puns seemingly without end. Whatever Sans was drinking wasn’t getting him as thoroughly drunk as the Crabapple Smashes were for Robyn, but Tabitha, constantly on her toes, _constantly_ planning ahead, knew she’d be in more than fine enough shape to drive them both home. Maybe his mojitos were made virgin?

As she nursed her third Fallwater of the night, Tabitha watched her best friend (more by dint of being her _only_ friend, really – and after this shameless pun chain, she was strongly reconsidering both notions) get along famously with the monster who had wormed his way into their conversation, while trying to ignore the way his eyelights kept flicking towards her own, as if trying to gauge her reactions. Well, more accurately, it would be _not minding_ him _–_ it was hard to ignore how many times they’d not-so-accidentally made eye contact. He wasn’t doing any more than that, and only asking basic and normal questions of the two and their lives, so he wasn’t being at all intrusive or imposing, not really. But the attention on its own still unnerved her.

 _She was uneasy with the spotlight on her like that_.

Noticing her friend’s weariness, Robyn only jostled Tabitha with her elbow even harder. “Aww, c’mon Tabz, don’ _skull_ -k so much. Enjoy th’ punz with uz!”

“she’s got a point ya know, th’ chance of this pun war endin’ is a _bum_ prospect,” Sans added, his expression wicked.

“We need t’ approach thiz conversation from a new _ankle_ I think,” Robyn offered, her eyes shining with mirth.

“fat chance on that,” Sans answered, draining more of his mojito. “we’ve come this far, no sense quittin’ now. besides, bad puns...” He turned towards the dyed-blonde who had been so unreceptive all night long. “it’s just how _eye roll_.”

Finally, at long last – he got through to Tabitha. It could have been the bit of empathy for her annoyance that this particular pun gave; it could have been the way he winked gently at her – if it were the latter, Tabitha would never have admitted to it. Either way: she hid her face in her shirtsleeve for the umpteenth time tonight, but this time she was _shaking_ , eventually loosing out in broken chuckles that had her throwing her head back. The rest of their table joined her, finally unified in their amusement.

While still laughing herself, Robyn went to check her phone – only to find her battery had gone dead. “Oh, shoot,” she muttered. “Do either of you hav’ th’ time?”

The skeleton monster pulled a smartphone out of his own pocket. “heh, it’s about ten-thirty _torso_.”

Robyn seemed torn between acknowledging the pun and her distress at the time. “Ha ha, oh mannn, I got’a get home.”

“whatsamatter? don’t wan’t be here at last clavi- _call_?” Sans jested.

“Hah, no, _toe_ be honezt I hafta get up early t’morrow. My mom’z gettin’ ready t’ downsize, I’ve been using my weekendz t’ help her go through her stuff.” Carefully, Robyn lowered herself to the ground, testing her balance and finding it, somehow, intact – she’d always been able to hold her liquor better than she let on. “... Besidez, I think we’ve _strain_ -ed m’ friend enough for th’ night, hah.”

Tabitha groaned and let her head fall into her hands. “Stoppppppppp.”

“heh, gotta get one more _bone_ -us round in,” Sans teased, resting his glass of ice and mint leaves on the table, missing his napkin-coaster by a mile. “ya _can_ escape the jokes, but only – _marrow_ -ly.”

As Robyn laughed a little too hard, Tabitha shook her head and gathered up her coat. _Thank goodness this was over. Well, except for whatever puns she’d have to endure from Robyn on the way home_.

She heard the skeleton’s own laughter die off, uncomfortably. Like he’d suddenly become self-conscious. “er, i _am_ sorry if the puns were too much. but, uh, ya know, in case ya ever want t’ talk about somethin’ _other_ than awful wordplay...”

Only now could Tabitha hear the sounds of a felt-tip pen scratching away. When she looked up, he was holding out the napkin that hardly had any condensation on it, a faint shine of azure cresting his zygoma as he looked slightly downwards, but definitely in _her_ direction. “... here. my number.”

Robyn, unfortunately, wasn’t too wasted to notice his gesture. “Haha _haaa_! Tabz, take it, _take it_!” she cried out gleefully.

Half on autopilot, half automatically reacting to her friend’s command, Tabitha dumbly reached out and took the white paper napkin with its black scrawl into her own hand.

The cheer that came from near her elbow shot Tabitha back to reality. “Woo- _hoo!_ Nice t’ meetchu, dude! I’ll make sure she textz you!”

A lopsided smile came in response from the skeleton monster, before he tipped his visor down, nabbed his glass, and slunk away.

Tabitha didn’t realize she’d been staring at his adorably shy smile until long after Robyn had dragged her outside.

“ _-_ _I waz riiiiiiiight!_ ” Robyn gloated as crunched through the gravel of the parking lot. “Hahaa, he got th’ _gutz_ t’ ask you out! Haha, geddit, cuz he’s a skeleton, he haz no _g_ _u_ _tsss,_ ” she slurred.

Tabitha snapped back at her: “Just get in the damn car, lady. And I don’t want to hear another fucking pun on the way to your place.”

She still hastily stuffed the written-on napkin into her pocket as she took Robyn’s car keys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy meets girl  
> \- boy doesn’t run away this time YAYYYYYYYYY :D
> 
> figured i'd make the initial posting a nice trio instead :3  
> will prolly be doing weekly from this point forward
> 
>  _… Robyn stop stealing all of Sans’ good jokes_  
>  (not that he can’t just make seventeen more back at her)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Look, just send him a text,” Robyn pleaded, her tone much gentler than before. “One little text. See what happens. No pressure to make it anything more.”
> 
> Tabitha let out a long sigh, slumping back in her chair. “Fine. Only to get you to shut up.”

Tabitha sat in the breakroom, eating her lunch and staring at the paper napkin from her coat pocket.

She turned it over and over as she picked at the contents of her tupperware with her other hand. She’d been able to forget about this until today. The anxiety was making it difficult for her to eat.

Robyn watched her over her own lunch, kind but coaxing. “C’mon, Tabs, it’s Tuesday. Perfect time to not look too eager.”

Tabitha scowled at her friend in response. “You’re assuming I _want_ to talk to him.”

It had gotten numbingly cold again after a warm spell that weekend, demanding that Tabitha wear her heavier coat to work – the same one she’d worn to the bar on Friday. In the process of taking her phone out of her coat’s pocket upon arrival at the office, the square napkin with the phone number written on it had fallen out as well, and along with it came rushing back all of the memories of that night.

One would have thought that Robyn would have hopefully forgotten about that night as well – she’d certainly been smashed (heh) enough. _But darn that Robyn could hold her liquor better than she let on_. Upon seeing the napkin, she had immediately set upon her friend, poking and prodding Tabitha to take up the guy’s offer to reach out to him.

“ _Even if it’s as friends_ ,” she reiterated now. “You need more people to talk to, right?”

The truth was, Tabitha had been intrigued by the exchange. Even if puns weren’t her thing, she had to admit it took a certain sort of cleverness to keep up the steady wordplay for as long as he had. Add to that, he had given her _his_ number – a less invasive option, compared to the usual M.O. of guys asking for the girl’s number. That sort of intelligence and sensitive consideration had her curiosity piqued.

But like Hell she’d admit it, even to herself. Best not to get hurt again.

“Look, just send him a text,” Robyn pleaded, her tone much gentler than before. Must’ve seen the look that crossed Tabitha’s face – she was the only one who would know its origin. “One little text. While I’m here to help. See what happens. No pressure to make it anything more.”

Tabitha let out a long sigh, slumping back in her chair. She finally eyed Robyn with a tired glance. “Fine. Under duress. _Only_ to get you to shut up.”

“At least it means you’re trying, sweetie,” Robyn soothed.

“And I’m throwing you under the bus here.” Tabitha was flippant as she entered the number from the napkin into a new text.

Robyn winced. “Ouch, but I’ll take it.”

Tabitha playfully stuck her tongue out at Robyn, mostly to let her know that her actual feelings over the situation weren’t _that_ hard. Robyn _had_ helped her through everything back then, after all.

Then she turned her attention back to the message she was typing onto her phone:

\- _it’s tabitha from the bar_

Which she followed with another:

- _my friend with all the puns is making me text you, congrats_

“There,” Robyn acknowledged, moving to sit next to Tabitha in solidarity. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know, it’s perfectly nor- _wait, he’s typing!_ ”

Tabitha’s eyes flew back to her phone in time to see the flashing “...” animation of the other party creating a response, before that response then popped up at the bottom of the screen:

- _aww r u sure its not cuz ur bonely_

Robyn sniggered, and Tabitha was once again groaning. But before she could think through an answer to the gag, the animation played that showed he was already typing again.

\- _did she call in sick? different shift? she not have ur “back” at work 2day?_

“Well, at least we know for sure that it’s the right number,” Robyn chortled as Tabitha stared at her phone, blank-faced with displeasure.

Tabitha snatched her phone back up to berate him:

\- _you cant ever resist punning can you_

It surprised her how fast the “...” animation appeared again.

\- _hard not 2 when u were born with it n ur bones_

“This guy’s gotta be eating lunch himself or something,” Tabitha said, shaking her head.

“Orrrr, he _really_ likes you. Either way, that’s some speedy texting,” Robyn teased.

“Heh.” Tabitha typed another reply of her own.

\- _har har. but no shes literally looking over my shoulder to make sure_

“-Hey!” Robyn whined, glaring at her friend, who was finally smirking herself.

“Hey, I toldja I’m throwing you under the bus.” Tabitha got up to refill her water bottle from the sink. “You push me to do this _against my will_ , I get to point my finger at you.”

“Here’s a finger for ya,” Robyn griped, and Tabitha didn’t even have to turn around to know she was being flipped off. Playfully, of course.

Tabitha laughed, “Love ya too, Robyn,” coming to sit back down at her place at the break table just as her phone vibrated.

“What’s it say, what’s it say?” Robyn asked eagerly.

Tabitha swiped her phone’s unlock screen to check.

\- _well tell her 2 stop being a numskull then_

Tabitha grunted while her friend snorted at her side. “Pun aside, he’s got a point, you know,” she muttered at Robyn.

Robyn apologized, “Hahaha, sorry, sorry,” before balling up the trash from her lunch to deposit it in the garbage. “But I’m not stopping, you know. As long as it’s in your best interest, that is.”

“Don’t do me any favors,” Tabitha grumped, crossing her arms.

“Aww, love ya too.” Robyn pushed her chair in before heading back outside.

* * *

Tabitha could have sworn the last day of this week gave her all the most ill-mannered patients. It seemed the cold snap was playing with everyone’s moods, as it had probably been playing with their pain levels, and she could tell from the soreness in her zygoma and temples that she’d been grinding her teeth all day just to get through it.

Before her last patient for the day arrived, she took a minute to perform some myofascial release on the junction of her jaw bones.

 _Friday’s drinking excursion could not come soon enough_.

Robyn sighed sympathetically as she wandered over. “That bad today, huh?”

“- _Ughhhh_.” Tabitha generally only allowed herself to mope around her friend – as understanding as their boss, who owned the practice, usually was, she tended to become irked at excessive complaining on the part of the employees (though she always came down on the side of her workers whenever anyone pulled a “speak to the manager”-type stunt).

“Mmmmmmhm,” Robyn nodded knowingly. “Let’s talk bars.”

“ _Please_ ,” Tabitha begged. She really needed something to look forward to today.

“So, do you mind terribly if we go to the same bar we did last week? The monster place?” Robyn continued, helpfully handing Tabitha her next patient’s file that she’d gotten for her. “I’d been considering the burger last week, and based on the recommendation we got, I _have_ to try it now.”

… _Well, their wings had been delicious as heck._ “Fine,” she answered, removing her hands from near her ears. “- _But_ , were not getting into any more conversations with pun-loving monsters _or_ humans. Not this time.”

“Okay, but what about-” Robyn began.

Tabitha sharply cut her off: “-No. It’s been too long a week, and I’m not here for it.”

Robyn’s mouth shut like a trap, and she thought carefully before uttering her next words. “... I promise I won’t start any conversations with anyone else this time. Only two people at the table tonight, and one is you. Scout’s honor.”

Tabitha exhaled, satisfied. “ _Thank you._ ” She turned to prepare her patient table. “We driving there separately again?”

“We both know the way, don’t we?” Robyn smirked, before leaving to attend to her own table.

Tabitha was looking forward to a fun, stress-free night.

* * *

As soon as she’d pulled into the gravel parking lot at Grillby’s and turned the ignition off, Tabitha changed out of her sneakers and into a pair of low-heeled booties that she felt more confident navigating potential slush piles in, without having to get her socks wet. Besides, she felt cute in them. Not for anyone else, of course – for herself. Naturally. That was what mattered most. _It had to_.

Curiously, she didn’t see Robyn’s car in the parking lot yet, but she’d made it out of the office first today, so Tabitha shrugged it off. Rather than wait in the cold, she headed straight inside, thankful for the booming bass from the speakers that seemed to soothe her nerves, determined to snag a table before it could be snatched up by the typical Friday crowd.

This time, she chose a high-top closer to the back of the row, nearer to the bathrooms, with good visibility over the place. After sitting down, she took a moment to scan the room over, keeping an eye out for any potential dangers; she was currently a solo woman in a bar, after all. _Gotta be careful_.

… She was disheartened to spot a familiar blue hoodie at the bar counter nearby, its wearer looking right at her.

Tabitha carefully schooled her face into something more closely resembling benign surprise. “Oh, you’re here.”

The skeleton ( _fucking shit, what was his name again, she was so bad at names but it could make her look really bad this time_ ) grinned back. “i did say this ’s my usual haunt, heh. i guess your friend’s comin’, too?”

“Yeah,” Tabitha nodded eagerly, wanting any excuse to _stop talking_ to him. “She took your recommendation to heart last week. Wants to try the burger this time.”

“heh, good choice.” He nodded back, before his grin eased up slightly. _Shy_.“i, uh, won’t intrude on you two, but, uh, need a drinkin’ buddy ‘til then?”

Tabitha looked around apprehensively. The bar was already pretty full this week, and there were enough strange guys around that it made her feel just this side of unsafe. “... Yeah, sure,” she finally told him, if only because she didn’t want to look alone and vulnerable. And if it turned out this guy wasn’t trustworthy either, well, at least Robyn would have a name and description to give the police.

He moved over to her high-top with his glass and napkin, smiling as he ( _so smoothly, dang_ ) climbed onto the tall stool. “tabitha, right?”

“Yup,” she casually chirped back, trying not to show how annoyed she felt by the circumstances (and probably failing). “Thanks for keeping me company.”

The skeleton monster smirked wickedly. “hey, doesn’t get under my _skin_.”

She threw him a peeved expression that she hoped was menacing enough without being off-putting. “I _will_ ask you to go easy on the puns. At least until she gets here, anyway.”

He doffed the visor on his hat in response. “sure, can do.”

She withdrew her glare, but only enough to not push him away. Well, if Robyn was going to be late like this, she wouldn’t hold back on her usual drink choices; she’d had yet to test their quality on her usual staples, anyway. Seeing as the fire-monster bartender was nearly right across from her, she politely called, “Hello, could I get a perfect Manhattan on the rocks when you have a chance?”

The fire-monster nodded and set to work. Tabitha folded her arms onto the tabletop and settled in. This was going to be an uncomfortable wait, at best.

* * *

A half-hour and a second Manhattan later, and Robyn still hadn’t showed up.

Tabitha had not ventured to leave the table, choosing to carefully nurse her liquor and ask Sans very shallow questions about his job and the bar while divulging as little of her own life story as possible. He was being very careful to not pry into her business himself, which made it all easier – appreciated, even. _Gotta reduce chances_.

At last, though, she confessed to the skeleton: “... I’m getting worried about my friend.”

“yeah, i don’t blame ya.” He took a thoughtful sip from his mojito (probably virgin again, judging by how he wasn’t the least bit affected). “ya gonna call her?”

“Text, actually. She voice-types on the reg, so it’s not gonna break any road laws.” Keeping an eye on her drink, she removed her phone from her pocket and typed a quick message:

\- _where are you_

After a moment, she thoughtfully added:

\- _your punny friend is here again_

To her distinct relief, she soon got the “...” that showed Robyn was typing a response. Yet all that relief drained from her on the instant that Robyn’s message appeared at the bottom of the stack:

\- _good, enjoy ur evening with him. I cant make it anymore :)_

Tabitha felt the color rise to her cheeks and her teeth itch again as her jaw began grinding despite itself. Sans looked on with trepidation. “... uh, what’s up?”

She neglected to answer him just yet, instead furiously texting back:

\- _you said it was going to be just us_

\- _wtf_ _robyn_

The “...” from Robyn typing was immediately visible again.

\- _notice how “I wont start any conversations” & “only 2 people, 1 is u” frm earlier is still true ;)_

Tabitha was about to type another reply when an even newer message appeared from Robyn:

\- _GO ENJOY URSELF TABS hes interested and youll never know if u dont try!!!!!!!!!!!! <3_

Only too late did Tabitha now recognize the loophole that Robyn had put in place for herself.

She tilted her head back, eyes shut as she sighed long and loud. The skeleton-monster raised a brow-bone at her. “... everythin’ okay?”

Tabitha did not open her eyes. “... This was her attempt to set us up.”

A sheepish blush in blue tinted his cheekbones as his eyelights disappeared. “... oh.”

She sat up, sighing again, bass throbbing deeply within her tightened jaw. _Now she had to face the music. Figuratively._ Fuck if she was going to let another pun slip by her mind without her knowing.

She made a mental note to chew Robyn out later for putting her in this position.

“Listen... Sans, was it?” she began cautiously, forcing herself to make eye contact with the skeleton in front of her. “... I’m really sorry, but, I can’t do this. Not, uh, not the way it’s going right now.”

The skeleton ( _thank goodness, he showed no signs of anger, or of her getting his name wrong, or both_ ) only smiled back kindly, if a bit hopelessly. His eyelights had since returned. “no worries. this kind’a forced setup ‘s a sorta shitty way t’ start anythin’, i get it.”

Self-consciousness suddenly overcame her in an ice-cold wave. She hurriedly stammered out, “I-it’s not because you’re- ! ... You know...”

His smirk was nonetheless understanding. “nah, i know you’re not a racist. ya wouldn’t have wanted anythin’ t’ do with me _or_ this bar if ya were.”

 _Phew._ “Yeah. No, it’s not that, I promise,” she assured him.

The expression that Sans returned to her this time was one of mock-defeat. “heh, hey, i get it, not everyone finds my personality _humerus_.”

“Hah, but no, it’s not the puns either really,” she confessed. She wasn’t the biggest fan, but even the few people close to her knew that her out-loud reaction towards them was a bit exaggerated. “Or you, even. You’re fine. It’s, um, it’s just that...” _Dare she say? Would it make him ask, or worse, try harder? Which was the greater risk here?_ “... Well, I’m... really _not_ looking for that in my life right now,” she explained, being as honest as she cared to.

He eyed her seriously for a moment, enough to cause her to nearly hold her breath, but he nodded. Nothing but calm and deference. “... perfectly valid reason. not gonna ask, not gonna argue.”

_Oh thank God._

Tabitha let her relief heave from her in a single, heavy breath. “Thanks for understanding, Sans.”

“hey, like i said, no problem.” He smiled again, but more flat, less behind it. He was hardly looking at her anymore. _Did he not care about her reactions any longer? Or was he just_ trying _not to care?_ “i’m guessin’ you’re gonna wanna get outta here, but if ya do need a drink after that shitshow, i’m happy t’ stick around, no strings attached.”

“No, you pretty much called it the first time, I’m gonna go home.” Tabitha slid down from her stool, the telltale click of her boot heels ringing back from the wooden floor. She fished a twenty out of her wallet to tuck under her empty glass – enough to cover both of her drinks, plus a tip. “Thanks for being so cool about this. I really do hope you have a good rest of your night.” She genuinely meant it – the fact that he was being so non-pressurizing and sensitive to her over this was putting her at great ease, but she was eager to curl up on her couch with some wine and takeout after this betrayal, well-meaning though it had (likely) been.

“heh, i’ll try.” He coolly grabbed his own glass in preparation to move back to the counter. “same t’ you. tell your friend t’ chill the fuck out, yeah?”

“Hah, that’s _if_ I ever speak to her again.” With a last sly expression to pair with her joke, which turned into one of heartfelt gratitude, Tabitha turned and exited the bar.

_Her grateful smile was so beautiful._

As soon as her back was facing Sans, as soon as she wasn’t possibly able to witness the change, he allowed his smile to fall into something sadder; something _empty_. He gave a rough sigh of his own as he took up his usual spot at the counter again, the fire monster behind it presently rushing over to crackle at him in sympathy.

Sans waved him off. “heh, nah. i can’t even be mad, her reasons ‘re perfectly unobjectionable.” He sarcastically raised his mostly-empty glass in a half-hearted “cheers” gesture as he exhaled. “ _hahhhhh_. can’t find joy even up here. another one bites th’ dust.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … Robyn mayyyyy be being slightly too enthusiastic a wingman here
> 
> [name with a “y” not an “i” as in _'y u do this to me'_ ]
> 
> poor Sans, this isn’t the first time a crush or something or other has fallen through :(
> 
>  _-i’m not ending this here, go read chapter 5!_ :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tabitha huffed and flopped backwards onto her couch. 
> 
> Being alone of a Friday night was so damn weird to her now, and there was only so much TV could do to help.

For the third Friday in a row, Tabitha sat in her apartment, curled up under a blanket on the couch.

Robyn had made an appropriate amount of penance after the attempted set-up with that skeleton monster, apologizing profusely, gifting her a bottle of her favorite red wine, and even holding back on her own puns (mostly). Tabitha had continued to remain grumpy and gruff at Robyn for the next week, but even that was retired before long, and the two had made up. They had by no means quit their usual Friday rendezvous on the basis of the friendship ending.

No, it was because it was, at last, the home stretch for Robyn’s mom downsizing. Last weekend, with the warming weather, had been a big yard sale, which Tabitha had offered to assist with but Robyn declined, seeing as her sister and brother would be there, and at that point it’d be risking too many cooks in the kitchen, proverbially (and literally) speaking. Tabitha understood, and stayed away to give Robyn the mental space to function.

But this weekend was the beginning of the real work, of packing for moving to a condo – what would be a multi-week process, given Robyn’s mother’s body drastically slowing with age, and given Robyn only had weekends off to help her – and Tabitha had been left lonely both Friday and Saturday night for what was now the third week running.

Sunday, her other day off besides Wednesday, had a schedule surrounding it – that was her day to take care of her self and her home, to go for a run and cook for the week and do the vacuuming and dusting. It didn’t make sense to throw her body and psyche off kilter by changing routine now, just because she didn’t have anything to fill the void.

But even if her friend had been free then – on Sundays Robyn was back in the PT office – Tabitha might have considered seeing her this time.

Robyn had meant well, after all, and she’d promised never to leave Tabitha alone at a bar like that again. After Tabitha had explained things to her, she’d immediately understood, admitted she hadn’t been thinking about the context. That was one of the things Tabitha enjoyed about her only, close friend – once she got past her own excitability, she was an incredibly thoughtful, sensitive person.

 _Sensitive_...

Tabitha huffed and flopped backwards into a reclining position. Being alone of a Friday night was so damn _weird_ to her now, and there was only so much TV could do to help.

 _Alone with her thoughts_.

If she’d had any other friends, she would have rung them up to distract herself; but as it was, Robyn wasn’t wrong – Tabitha had a tendency to keep people at arm’s length. _She had good cause to,_ she reasoned to herself. It had been far too long since she’d been able to trust anyone else to not be imposing over her, to even _attempt_ to understand her point of view rather than only act upon their own; to reach across that bridge of recognition and see things from a different, broader perspective, rather than twist or bring it back to themselves self-centeredly.

She didn’t know anybody else like that.

Well... except now, as of that one night, there was the one.

Tabitha had had one glass of wine so far tonight, on an empty stomach to boot. It was just enough to feel warm and fuzzy, to dull her senses and mental filters and make her feel loose-limbed and relaxed – but it was not enough to kill the loneliness entirely.

So very little ever _was_.

 _Maybe it was a bad idea_...

But who else had ever been so non-intrusive? Made her feel even remotely listened to?

Without the filters of anxiety or logic to quell it, discomfort-born impulse took over, and Tabitha bolted up from the couch, grabbed her boots and purse and a thick sweater from near her apartment door, and stormed out.

* * *

Three weeks since his last failed attempt.

Bar business had been picking up now that it was warm enough for the humans to feel comfortable venturing outside, so Grillby wasn’t around as much to offer him hardly-asked-for consolations (which Sans still appreciated from an empathic standpoint, despite not really wanting his longtime friend’s mother-henning, or to bother and worry those who cared for him; _he was fine, he had it handled, he didn’t need it_ ). The fire monster had still waved at Sans from behind the counter on the latter’s arrival each evening, and sent him refill after refill of virgin mojito, all of which he’d caught as they slid down the counter with uncanny finesse. He’d have preferred to drink Madeira – it was Friday, after all, and he didn’t start work until later tomorrow – but if he ever came home sloshed again, as he used to do so regularly, Papyrus would never let him hear the end of it.

Not that his brother ever listened either when he told him he was fine.

Sans sighed into his nearly-empty glass of ice and mint leaves, his sixth of the night (or was it his seventh? He’d long lost count), and contemplated just how bad it would be to endure his brother’s lecturing on his health and well-being that he could surely count on.

He most certainly did not count on the stool next to him gaining an occupant.

When he glanced up to see who had dared to sit near him – not that he didn’t welcome it, but usually he was so broody that few felt him deserving company to even come close to – he was in for a shock of an even higher magnitude: _it was Tabitha, the girl who had turned him down half a month ago._

 _And she was staring right at him_.

He knew he must look a sight right now, eyelights gone and blue creeping across his cheeks. How he managed to hold his steady and calm was entirely beyond him.

He still nearly lost them both when she addressed him directly: “... Hey.”

Doing his absolute best to keep his jaw from dropping, he cautiously answered: “... hey, yourself.” He swallowed anxiously, despite not having a throat to do so with. “uh... your friend comin’?”

Tabitha (that _was_ her name, right? He was pretty sure) chuckled darkly as she dropped her head. “No, she’s helping her mom pack to move. ‘S been doing that for the past two Fridays.”

If Sans didn’t know any better, he’d have thought Tabitha was drunk already. The human had always been unfailingly polite, but still standoffish from all but surface contact and conversation. _Almost as if she had a history; a sense of distrust_. And yet, here she was, putting herself out there... _uncharacteristic._ He coolly sipped at the last dregs of his current drink, trying to seem casual even as he was gleaning so much about this girl, even without sensing or mirroring her mood. “uh, wow. i mean, good for her, but, that sucks. been a couple’a lonely weekends, huh?”

“Oh yeah.” She laughed again, but this time a hand came up to rub at the back of her neck. Sans didn’t need his natural empathy to recognize that she was _nervous_. “... But, uh, doesn’t make sense to drink alone, you know?”

 _He knew that feeling all too well_. “oh yeah, i hear ya there. so, uh, need a drinkin’ buddy then?”

“Yeah, I kinda...” Tabitha trailed off, a burst of air blowing between her lips as she gathered her words. “... Look, don’t... get the wrong idea. I’m still not... interested. You know. In _that_ way. But.”

She lifted her head slightly, if only to be able to be heard more clearly when she spoke. She exhaled again, _mustering some courage most likely_. “... Um, you’ve been... really, _really_ nice. And I hate to say it, but, um, I don’t have many friends.”

 _It looked like it was nigh paining her physically to have to admit to any of this, and he_ didn’t want that _for her_. Sans grinned and held up an open hand. “say no more. need somebody t’ chill with? you got it.”

Tabitha’s shoulders dropped down, her face filled with so much _relief_. “Please.” Then she became embarrassed again. “Um, no more than that though. … Hope that’s okay.”

“hey, ya told me you’re not ‘n a place for that right now. i’ll wholeheartedly respect that.” Sans stretched out the hand he’d had raised, extending it for her to shake. “... prospective friends?”

A smile lit up Tabitha’s face again, and _damn if that didn’t make him almost regret the offer he was making._ She still put out her own hand and placed it in his. “Prospective friends.”

He shook once, his grin widening even amidst his internal undercurrent of dubious woe. _What sort of bizarre, lopsided, bass-ackwards luck was this?_ “sans,” he reintroduced himself, eager at the chance to start off on a better foot this time.

She grinned back at him. “Tabitha.”

He broke off the handshake first, lest he make her feel uncomfortable. _Stay in control._ “alright, buddy. get ‘n order in, start off your _tab_ for the night.”

The grin that had been on her face disappeared in the blink of an eye. “... Did you seriously just turn my name into a fucking pun.”

It wasn’t a question; yet Sans, wearing a shit-eating smirk of his own, responded as if it were. “’course. what, you’re not used t’ them from your one friend by now?”

Tabitha rubbed her temples, groaning softly. “I’d’ve hoped to have _less_ friends who were into those, not more of them.”

“heh, shouldn’tve solicited _me_ then, part ‘n parcel of the package here.” Sans waved a hand to flag down one of the bartenders, who noticed him and came sauntering over. “now, if we’re gonna be drinkin’ buddies, let’s get ya that drink, shall we?”

* * *

Half a Manhattan for Tabitha and a full mojito for Sans later ( _virgin still, no way was he going to risk dropping his filters and scaring her off tonight, no sir, he was going to respect her unavailability if it dusted him_ ) and it became evident to Sans that she had pregamed to some degree before arriving at Grillby’s, judging by how quickly she had started to sway in her seat. He’d advised her to get some food for herself as well, and she’d readily agreed, smartly ordering herself some fries on top of the wings and salad he’d seen her get last time.

Still... “i’m definitely gonna get ya t’ try the burger one’a these days if i can help it,” he teased her.

She tore into her chicken with an unladylike voracity that he oddly found himself respecting a little. At least she wasn’t some dainty flower of a chick. “Not that I don’t believe you, ‘m just in a mood for sticking to what I know, s’all,” she explained between mouthfuls.

He shrugged and mentally gave her a pass. She was stretching her comfort zone enough tonight as it was. “the fries’re new, though,” he commented.

“Hah, yeah. I _may_ ‘ve had a glass of wine at home before deciding ‘what the hey’ an’ coming here instead.” She picked a few of her fries and placed them in her mouth, with a little more composure this time. “Not my best idea, but this was kind’f on a whim anyway, so I gotta soak it up now.”

Sans nodded grimly. _Sicker quicker._ That explained why three Fallwaters the first night with dinner hadn’t done much to her, but ‘one Manhattan’ had. “good. better than th’ alternative.”

“Yup.” His new companion went back to focusing down her protein, and Sans couldn’t help but wonder how much the nutritional balance she’d chosen figured into her dancing habits.

“so what d’ya do in your spare time?” he heard himself ask her, before kicking himself internally. _Curse his stupid traitor mind, he’d been intending to leave dancing out of the conversation altogether from the very start!_

On hearing the question, Tabitha’s mind froze. In all the time they’d spent together, this was the first question he’d truly asked her about her own life, and it was a relatively mundane, even benign, one. _He’d been so cool about things the other week, and so respectful this whole time._

The part of her that had had its inhibitions and anxieties removed by that first glass of wine was still determined to stave off its loneliness, to keep being able to hang out with him. She was cognizant enough of monster culture, of their history and magic with dancing, that she decided not to mention her love of hip hop. Despite not knowing Sans’ style of dance that he would undoubtedly have, she didn’t want to seem patronizing – risk insulting and driving him away. _It’s not like sharing that had panned out well last time, either_.

So out loud, she said: “Not much, just drink wine at home an’ watch crappy TV.”

His sockets blinked in surprise. “oh, you’re more of a wine drinker?”

Tabitha’s eyes shut, shy. “Yeah, truthf’lly.”

This time, Sans’ smile came back tenfold. “ahaaaa. me too, actually. so what’s your preference?”

Tabitha was put at ease enough by his own relief that she gave an honest answer. “Savory reds, mostly. I tend t’ go for Syrah or French cabs.”

The skeleton next to her smirked. “aaaah, i see. less light, more ‘interesting’.”

Prepared for the usual derision, she rolled her eyes defensively. “Ha, ha, yup, call me a snob.”

She wasn’t expecting him to shake his head with a mild laugh. “heh, nah, i kinda skew that way too. i’ve come t’ like malbec since comin’ to the surface, an’ dry madeira. but my _favorite_ ‘s dandelion wine, when i can find it here.”

 _Now_ she was intrigued. “Ooh, rarity!”

“heh, well, it was more readily available underground.” Grinning, he took a sip of the minty ice-melt from his glass before continuing. “i like th’ ones that use more than just the petals t’ make it, it’s got a more earthy thing goin’ on. more complex.”

Tabitha’s lips pursed. “You know what, tha’ sounds- ... Actually, why the Hell ‘re we drinking cocktails right now when we’re wine people,” she self-interrupted. Her focus changed to catching the eye of one of the personnel behind the counter.

Sans’ laugh was the teensiest bit nervous. “what’s the big idea, then?”

She turned back to him once one of the bartenders was making their way over, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Wanna share a bottle?”

… _Extremely tempting._ He was going to have to make sure to pace it slow and get some food himself if he was going to escape his brother’s wrath. But this opportunity would be stupid to pass up, and like Hell he was going to let it. He smiled back. “sure. whatcha got ‘n mind?”

“A red, ‘f course. You like Malbec, I like Syrah, why mess with that?” The bartender, a human in the standard all-black, arrived in front of them, and Tabitha asked: “Hey, got a medium ‘r full-bodied red you recommend?”

The bartender thought for a moment. “I really like the house Syrah, myself.”

“Perfect, a glass each please,” Tabitha told them, before Sans cut in after her to add: “-and a side of fries for me, please.”

As the bartender walked off to punch in their orders, Sans teased Tabitha jauntily: “heh, so why _did_ ja get mixed drinks ‘til now, then?”

She chuckled, a useless and weak sound. “It was mostly for Robyn. She’s big on those, an’ she’s my best friend, it’d look weird for her to have to drink a martini next t’ someone else with a wine glass.” She put another pinch of fries in her mouth, chewing thoroughly before swallowing. “... Don’t want t’ make her look like a lush, y’know?”

Sans nodded. _A bold girl, shrewd enough to self-advocate, and considerate of her loved ones._

He was going to have a hard time keeping his feelings stuffed down so they could remain friends.

As the object of his ~~affection~~ friendship ( _dammit, keep it together sans!_ ) ate more of her dinner in preparation for the alcohol they’d soon be consuming, he drained the last of his sadly-not-alcoholic-enough mojito and pushed it towards the back of the counter so the glass could be removed. “ya prob’ly wanna abandon that manhattan then,” he coached her.

She appeared thoughtful for a moment. “... You’re right. They make ‘em good here, but I’d rather th’ wine we’re about t’ have.” She pushed her own glass away from her as well.

Sans smirked. “it’s for the best. don’t wanna be _wine-_ ing from a hangover in th’ mornin’, right?”

To his utter shock, she did not seem bothered by the pun this time. _Was it the alcohol?_ “... Heh, allllright, you got me,” she confessed with a stupid grin. “Don’t expect t’ get so lucky often, though.”

 _If only he could make the pun that first came to his mind, but that would be way too forward_. Instead, he tipped the visor of his cap. “wouldn’t dream of it.”

Just then, the bartender came back with two glasses and the requested wine, and as they poured they told Sans, “Your fries are in, sir, they’ll be out shortly.”

He nodded at the human gratefully. “sure thing, thanks.”

The second the bartender left, Tabitha took her wine glass in hand and raised it high. “Here’s t’ us fellow wine drinkers, then!”

As he lifted his own glass to meet hers, watching her sparkling eyes as he did so, Sans had the smallest feeling – even before their banter evolved organically throughout the night, even before he took her playful jabs about dousing his fries in a gratuitous amount of ketchup, even long before they’d agreed to make this a regular meetup on Saturday evenings – that this friendship was going to work out well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HE FINALLY DID IT FOLKS
> 
> …  
> HE MADE A “PAYING TAB” JOKE WITH HER NAME  
>  _*confetti shooters go off*_  
> 
> 
> … uh oh friend zone :(  
> \- he’ll get out of it eventually... right? right?????
> 
> \- huh, so if this is Tabitha barely buzzed, then... who knows what it’ll be like if...
> 
> (also Tabs ur a bit of a hypocrite early on arent u :) )
> 
> \- this is the last double/multi-update, folks, it’s going to be one chapter a week from this point forward, barring certain circumstances or the odd two-parter which i may post as a single update at my discretion
> 
> additionally - if you're inclined to, please comment, it makes my friggin' week <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “she’s not mine,” Sans muttered under his breath, only for Grillby to playfully crackle back: _‘-Yet.’_
> 
> “heh, ya sound pretty damn confident given she strictly wants to be friends, buddy,” Sans tossed back darkly.
> 
> Grillby hiked a wry brow. _‘And you’re certain it’s nothing more? Truly?’_

The next Saturday saw Sans at the counter at Grillby’s early, trying not to let his jitters take over.

It was May, now – in fact, just as of this week – and the sun was staying out for longer and longer. The world outside was bright and green, filled with the scent of flowers growing.

Sans was trying desperately not to think about how the warmer climate meant he’d seen the dance meetup at the park where his favorite hotdog stand stood, every single Wednesday; or about how he’d kept his damn distance, working even harder to hide his face even though the group remained clear on the other side of the block. _Don’t intrude_.

He wondered if what he was planning tonight would be too much, as well. But Tabitha had ended up taking the responsibility of paying for the bottle of Syrah last week, and he’d be damned if he didn’t return the favor now.

He had to make a good impression.

When he’d walked in that afternoon, Grillby and the rest of the bar staff had been busy with setup for what would inevitably be a rush that evening. The fire monster had thrown off some sparks in greeting, and near-immediately slid a mojito down – still virgin; he knew Sans’ pattern by now.

Tonight would be rather different though, for once. Even if it wasn’t his ideal, the thought still made Sans’ smile go giddy.

As he caught the gliding drink, motions smooth and suave as ever, Sans gave an appreciative wave back, and called to his friend, “stop by when ya have a chance soon!”

The fire monster held up a burning index finger, even as the subtle pattern change in his flames signaled the words ‘ _Just a moment_.’

Sans nodded back, before tucking in to his beverage. _Stars, but he was looking forward to not having to drink this so much_. He’d successfully avoided detection by his brother when he got back last week, and while he loved Papyrus and would abide by his anti-alcohol mandate as much as he was able (the sole exception being with this girl, because _stars damn it_ he was going to enjoy the time he spent with her), tasting the same thing every night had become downright depressing.

Or maybe it was the change in circumstance. He could’ve sworn it tasted better, fresher, today.

He hadn’t taken three gulps before his old friend wandered over. Sans looked up as Grillby came to a stop in front of him, grinning. “heya, pal. all ready for tonight?”

‘ _As much as we can be.’_ The fizzles and pops that came from the fire monster were perfectly readable to the skeleton – something that Grillby had long been grateful for. Likewise, Grillby was one of the few good judges of Sans’ expressions. ‘ _... Your grin looks nervous, my friend. What is the trouble?’_

“heh, uh, actually, i could use a recommendation, if it’s not too much t’ ask.” Sans pulled at the collar of his sleeveless tee with one phalanx, suddenly feeling too hot in spite of the lack of alcohol... or any particular sensitivity to temperature, given his species.

The fire monster raised one brow from behind his spectacles. ‘ _Oh?’_

“uh, heh, so, uh, ya remember that girl? tabitha?” Sans began, unusually tripping over his words.

Sans was damn certain he saw a faint smile etched in the lines of his friend’s flames. ‘ _Ah, yes, didn’t you two agree to meet on Saturdays, now? … Does that mean she is stopping by tonight?’_

“uh, yeah, actually,” Sans gulped. He’d already confided in him on everything about this latest try for some form of happiness, of joy, on the Surface. Grillby was well aware of the whole story; of Sans’ first efforts falling flat, of the renewed shot at friendship, of how well the pair had gotten along the previous weekend. “and, uh, ya probably remember that part of this’s about drinkin’ wine, so i’m hopin’ i can pin down her tastes enough to, uh, impress her a little...”

Grillby’s face tightened, perplexed. ‘ _That makes sense. But I believe I_ _am_ _not the best_ _to advise you on this matter.’_ His eyes scanned the bar, before turning his body to the side slightly and...

‘ _-KASPER!’_ the fire monster flared up brightly enough to light up the entire room, in his physiological language’s equivalent of a shout.

“-On it!” Quickly approaching from the other end of the bar-back was a skinny adult human wearing a black button-down with an open red flannel rolled up to his elbows, while somehow managing to make it look pretty darn professional. It might have been the clean khakis or the black suede loafers, or the chunky black glasses frames that stood out from under the long breezy fauxhawk on his head; but it sure as heck wasn’t the dark leather cuff on his wrist, nor the boho stone choker that hung on his neck.

He strode over to Grillby’s side, a fist on one hip and a sly smirk on his face upon recognizing just who he was being asked to help. “‘Ey Sans, what’s up?”

‘ _Your expertise is needed here,’_ sparked Grillby, to which Sans shrugged, “eh, guess that makes sense. heya, kas. long time no see bud.”

“Kas” (although Sans was the only one with the right, or more accurately the audacity, to nickname him as such) had been hired by Grillby fairly early on, shortly before the grand opening of his Surface location, not only to help manage the bar and human employees, but also to help advise Grillby on the more readily-available human alcohols and on how to appeal to the inevitable human customers without compromising on monster culture or rights. Having long experience in bartending, Kasper took to the position like a fish to water, giving nothing but his best in service of the fire monster – helping craft drinks to appeal to both monster and human tastes, making spot-on recommendations, and generally being a chill and respectful guy all around while efficiently managing the bar to Grillby’s specifications. Not that Grillby didn’t keep a close eye on his second-in-command, invested as he was in his bar’s success. Kasper had even been doing his utmost to learn Fire-speak, and he’d made astounding progress – not fluent yet, but more than enough to interpret for his boss and any customers, and certainly enough to not need help with work-related vocabulary throughout the evenings.

Kasper squinted as he let out an appreciative snicker – he was there almost every day, just as Sans was, and by extension, no stranger to the skeleton’s jokes. “ _S_ _o_ long, haven’t seen ya since yesterday, sheesh. Whaddya need my man?”

Sans immediately rewound the explanation he’d begun giving Grillby: “okay, so, the girl i hung out with here last week, she’s comin’ back tonight and i wanna figure out a wine for her. she told me she likes syrah and french cabernets, and i remember her gettin’ a fallwater th’ first time she came in, but she’s much more of’a wine drinker, just dunno if that tells ya anythin’.”

At first, Kasper laughed in his somewhat high voice: “Haha, wow buddy, you’re bordering on stalker-ish there.”

“- _i really like this girl, don’t wreck this for me,_ ” Sans hissed lowly.

“Lul, Sans, chill, I’m teasing.” He lifted a finger to his clean-shaven chin. “... Hmm. Sounds like she’s not big on fruit or anything overly-sweet. And she’s gotten perfect Manhattans too, not regular, yeah? If the drinks are any indication, she’s more a dry and herb or spice kinda-gal.”

“good,” Sans quickly returned, eager to have it settled as soon as possible in case she showed up early. “got anythin’ that fits that? – that isn’t the house syrah, we had that last week. it was good, but i wanna do somethin’ different, y’know?”

Kasper clicked his tongue to his teeth. “Hmmmmmm. We have a domestic Zin that’s on the more complex side that might do it.”

Sans’ supraorbital ridge rose skeptically. “isn’t zinfandel ‘mom wine’ or some shit?”

“Don’t pigeonhole wines by their grape, my man. Or by anything on the bottle, really. Tell me again, who turned you on to Madeira from your little ketchup habit, hmmm?”

 _Kasper had._ ~~ _Even if it had ultimately proved detrimental_~~ _._ Sans gritted his teeth. “fine, i’ll trust ya. any way i could get two glasses of those ‘s soon as she sits down? _un_ like your funny little accusations, i don’t want t’ look sketchy by havin’ it already there,” he growled, eyesockets narrowed.

Kasper snorted. “Sure man, I’ll get a bottle. Holler when your lady’s here.”

“she’s not mine,” Sans muttered under his breath as Kasper walked away, only for Grillby to playfully crackle back: ‘ _-_ _Yet.’_

“heh, ya sound pretty damn confident given she strictly wants t’ be friends, buddy,” Sans tossed back darkly as Grillby went back to polishing glasses.

His back temporarily to his friend, the fire monster chuckled. ‘ _Yes, just a shame that I am more so in you than you are in yourself.’_

The skeleton shook his head. “this isn’t about my confidence, pal. she paid for th’ bottle last week, i’m just bein’ fair, that’s all it is.”

Grillby hiked a wry brow. ‘ _And you’re_ certain _it’s nothing more? Truly?’_

Sans let out a long sigh. “just put the wine on my tab, grillb,” he ground out, holding a weary hand to his forehead.

‘ _Already done. And you know that unlike your brother, I support you on your own terms.’_ Grillby took a few steps to the side to greet a customer who was approaching the counter from the booths.

Forehead still cradled in his carpals, Sans did his very best to exhale his frustration from the teasing and his nerves away. _Calm. Control. Don’t mess this up._

He spent over an hour, plus a second mojito, at that task. Not having much success (who was he kidding – he wasn’t having _any_ ), he finally caved in and checked the time on his phone. _6:30. She was out of work at six on Saturdays._ With any luck, Tabitha would still be a while before she showed up, and he’d have a few extra minutes to-

 _Ah, no such luck._ There she was, striding through the door, hair half-up, a chunky-knit gray cardigan over her work polo and sneakers, and _dammit she looked way too cute and cozy to be allowed._

Ignoring the beads of sweat that broke out below the band of his cap, he trained his face into an easy, disciplined smile as he looked up at her. “hey, ya made it!”

Tabitha’s own smile in return made him feel so ridiculously _warm_. “Hey! Yeah, it’s easier to close up when it’s not so freakin’ cold out.” She paced easily over to the empty bar-stool next to him and took her seat. “... Can I just say I’m fucking _jazzed_ that it’s May now?”

The incorrigible bastard in him sent his grin to lean towards wicked. “... i dunno, _can_ you?”

The groan she let out was music to his ears. “You sound like an English teacher. … Which is funny, considering you’re a mechanic,” she added, a gleam in her eye.

“hey, now, not all of us scientists ‘re bad at grammar,” he protested, jaunty and mild.

He nearly lost his eyelights when her lids went wide at his remark. “... Science? You said you had an engineering background, I thought...?”

 _\- And just like that, he’d said too much_. He made a (casual, _casual_ ) show of nabbing a menu and perusing it. “have ya eaten yet, or didja come straight here?”

Thank the stars, the question pulled her off of _that_ logic trail. “... No, I drove right over-”

Just then, a familiar fauxhawk came floating over the rest of the staff behind the bar, and Kasper soon appeared from behind the other bodies dressed in all-black, a pair of stemmed glasses in one hand and a wine bottle in the other. With precision and charisma he made his way over to Sans and Tabitha, stopping in front of them with a grin that to anyone else would look friendly, but Sans knew to, in fact, be a subtle smirk. _Cheeky asshole_. The human addressed both bar-goers at once: “Heya folks! How are you doing tonight?”

“I’m good, thank you!” Tabitha immediately answered, and Sans, subconsciously lacing his fingers in front of his mouth to hide the fog of blue now gracing his cheekbones, nodded.

Kasper, oddly, didn’t pay Sans’ gesture any mind. “So I heard you guys liked the house Syrah last week, and I wanted to try somethin’ on ya if you’re up for it. It’s another red, a Zinfandel actually, but it’s not your usual Zin, it’s an especially complex vintage. Give it a shot?”

“... A _really_ complex Zin? Intriguing.” Tabitha was completely hooked, grinning as well as she leaned in on her elbows. “I’m game. What about you, Sans?”

“- _yeahsure,_ ” was all the poor flustered skeleton could manage.

Kasper’s own grin broadened. “Gotcha! I’ll set you right up then.” He placed both glasses in front of them, pulled a bottle opener out of his apron pocket, and freed the bottle of foil and cork before pouring its contents with a brazen yet steady hand. “Let me know what you think after it breathes, yeah?”

As he turned to place the bottle towards the back of the bar and out of reach, Sans could have sworn he saw the bar’s second-in-command wink at him.

For all he might play the part of a complete and insidious rascal, Kasper had actually just taken quite a bullet for Sans, in removing the heat for the wine choice from the skeleton and placing it on his own shoulders. Bitterly, Sans made a mental note to himself that he owed the human, _again_.

“Isn’t the fire monster the owner?” Tabitha ribbed him.

Sans was trying desperately to keep his composure, especially in the face of what had just been done for him. _Couldn’t waste the opportunity he’d been handed._ “yeah, he is. that was kasper, he’s grillby’s second man. knows his stuff.”

Tabitha was already lifting the glass to her face, taking a whiff. “... I think I get why he picked this one out. I’m getting a _lot_ of spice.”

For the first time in all this, Sans _knew_ he was in over his head, as opposed to just thinking it; if this girl was a wine drinker, was she maybe a _serious_ one, was she going to want to discuss this – was she about to throw all that pretentious terminology at him that he didn’t even _know_ -

To his (pleasant!) shock, that was the end of it, as she touched the glass to her lips ~~and if only it was~~ ~~n’t the ruby liquid kissing them but~~ ~~his teeth instead~~ and tasted. A look of surprise bloomed on her face. “... Huh. Yeah, okay, not what I’m used to, but it’s not bad at _all_.”

He finally dared to try it himself, and he saw what she meant – it tasted more like fruit jam than last week’s wine, but it had all of the intricate flavors going on that he recalled her liking, from their conversation on the matter. “... yeah, it’s pretty good.”

“Want something else, or are you up to finishing this?” she asked him.

“i’m down if you are,” came his truthful reply.

“Yeah, absolutely. This really is interesting. You’re right, that Kasper guy does know his stuff.” She took another keen sip. “... Wonder why, though. You’re friends with the owner, right? Did word get out that we’re here for wine or something?” she teased.

Somehow he was able to control the warmth that wanted to take over more and more of his zygomatic arches. “... heh, could be. i dunno.” _Like he was going to admit his hand in this when Kasper had covered for hi_ _s ass_ _._

“Hah, well, either way.” Another longer, more appreciative sip. “... This’s really nice.”

 _T_ _he same as he felt, really._ It was moment before he caught himself goofily staring at the woman to his right, and tore his gaze away.

Tabitha’s expression suddenly soured. “... Um, did he mention if the house was covering? If he’s gonna pick something out so forwardly, that’s usually the intention, but I don’t think he said anything...”

 _Ah, his chance._ He waved his hand nonchalantly. “doesn’t matter. if it’s not, i got it.”

She immediately started: “But-”

“- _but_ you got the wine last week,” Sans interrupted. “fair’s fair, an’ i won’t hear ‘no’ on this.” As if to signal the finality of his word, he took a sip from his own glass without even looking at her.

She was still stiff for a moment, but eventually relaxed, slightly. “... All right. I’ll reimburse you if it turns out to be worth more.”

Fully intending to not let that happen, he replied, “we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. now. ya should probably get somethin’ to eat with this. as should i.” He turned to grin at her. “so, tell me, what’s it goin’ to take to convince ya t’ try the burger this week?”

Tabitha made a face. “I’m not huge on burgers, to be honest,” she admitted. “... I’ll consider it, but this better be a _really good_ burger. Like God himself shat it out.”

“heh, why not? other burgs too charred, too greasy...?” Sans quizzed, though internally he was vastly entertained by the phrasing she’d used, and his grin at it came helplessly, without his permission.

“Either or,” Tabitha stated. “Either it’s a dry piece of abject sadness, or they attempted to drown that dryness in beef fat or mayo and just made a whole new problem in the process.”

“then you’ll be pleased to know that grillb’s burger is neither of those things,” Sans informed her. “actually tastes like meat, well-seasoned. look, if ya don’t like it, i’ll cover it. how’s that sound? _that’s_ how confident i am that this’s better than any of the others you’ve had before.”

Well, who was going to turn down an offer like that? Tabitha sighed and shook her head laughingly. “Okay, fine, you win,” she chuckled. “ _I’ll get a burger_.”

“that’s the fuckin’ spirit,” he cheered. “you’re not gonna regret it.” He motioned to nab the attention of one of the bar staff.

“Promise?” Tabitha jokingly asked.

He balked at first, but, glancing at her smile, was ultimately compelled to roll with it. “yup. promise.”

… _He was in trouble._

When one of the bartenders came over, Tabitha kept her word and asked for a burger with slaw, and snickered when Sans, again, ordered a side of fries. As they left to enter the order, she hummed, “Gotta support that ketchup habit.”

“hey, how’d ya guess?” he sarcastically quipped back, nabbing his wine glass for another gulp.

She giggled momentarily before noticing how he was setting his glass back down on the bar counter. “... Are you left-handed?”

“yyyup, i’m a southpaw.” He finished placing the glass sturdily before turning to her. “or, y’know, i could’ve just popped my hands off an’ switched ‘em to confuse ya. ya never know.”

He was pleased with the grimace that spread on her. “Y-you can’t actually do that, can you?”

Her grimace turned into surprise, and then disappointment and disgust, when he started cackling madly. “ _hahahaha_ , nah, i can’t, but ya should’ve seen your _face_!”

“You’re mean,” she griped even as she fought the upward tug of one corner of her mouth.

“hahah, sorry, sorry,” he wheezed. He finally uncovered his sockets with his hand. “that was seriously funny, though.”

“Shut up, you jerk,” she laughed back, accompanied by a joking swat, which he handily dodged. “Just tell me how work was this week.”

“ _heheh_ , it sucked,” he answered between a few final hoarse chuckles that turned bitter as they went. “everyone’s startin’ to come in complainin’ of weird noises below their car, and, figures, parts of the underneath of their cars ‘re _draggin’ on the ground_ , cause’a road salt damage that they never get cleaned off come spring. and then they’re legitimately surprised when i or the boss tell ‘em why.”

Tabitha nodded sympathetically. “Ahh. So it’s busy, _and_ idiots.”

“ya said it.” He took an angry gulp of Zinfandel. “i hope your week was better ‘n mine.”

“Yeah, I sort of have an opposite problem.” She took a much more dainty sip, wanting more of the deliciousness but waiting on her food to avoid actually getting drunk. Plus, you know, how that Kasper guy had told them to let it aerate. “People are ridiculously grumpy when it’s cold, mostly because of what cold does to people’s joints and pain levels. But it’s warming up now, so people who used to be awful patients are downright _pleasant_ all of a sudden.”

“heh, wow.” He leaned on an elbow as he smiled in her direction. “you’ve got extra reason t’ be a fan of the warmer weather, then.”

“Well, that, and I get cold really frickin’ easy compared to other people, so yeah.” She raised a brow at him. “... Isn’t working in a garage in winter kind of cold, though?”

“nah, not for me.” Fist still on his cheek, he faced forward again, eyes shut with an easy grin. “i can _sense_ temperature, but it doesn’t affect me th’ way it does humans or more high-physicality monsters.”

She nodded, thinking. “... So what, like, it feels cold, but the cold isn’t uncomfortable?”

“exactly.” Another sip. “hot weather doesn’t, either. dunno how familiar ya are with th’ underground, but back then, i lived in snowdin. never had ‘n issue.”

“... Huh. Yeah, I kinda know there’s different regions, at least.” A momentary pause to process. “... So, uh, based on the name, is that place, like, eternal winter or something?”

“yup, ya got it. folks who tended to live there either were indifferent t’ temperature, like my bro and i, or had fur or hair or some other means t’ beat the chill.”

“Ah _hah_ ,” Tabitha responded wryly, leaning on her own palm. “... You said you had an engineering or science background Underground, right? What led you to doing cars up here, then?”

He froze, then darkly chuckled, facing not towards her but towards the wooden counter with closed sockets. “heh, it’s a long story. i don’t think we’d even have time for it tonight.” He lifted his wine glass for another sip.

She picked up on his not-quite-subtle hint that he _did not want_ to talk about it, and dropped it. She had her own topics that, if brought up, she’d want to skip past, too.

And besides, last week, what with how late she’d arrived, they’d only really talked about their jobs and her not being originally from Ebott City (she’d landed here out of college, nearby), and if her unfiltered needy-ass brain was going to luck her into having another friend to talk to ( _God why had her half-drunk self done that, but since it had worked out this stupidly well she was going to keep at it dammit_ ), then she was goddamn _determined_ to be less of a tipsy mess and more of an actually good conversational partner for him.

So instead, she changed the subject: “So you said you have a brother? Who’s older?”

“that’d be me.” He put his glass down again. “paps ‘s the babybones of th’ two of us.”

“... I don’t know whether that pun-phrase is _fucking adorable_ or stupid as Hell.”

“heh, flip a coin,” Sans wisecracked.

Tabitha smiled at him. “Do you still see him often now that you’re on the Surface?”

“daily. we live together.” His phalanges played with the stem of the wine glass, turning it back and forth. “did back underground, didn’t make sense t’ end the arrangement. rent’s a bitch.”

“Well I at least hope you get along okay,” Tabitha commented, still chuckling from his latter remark.

“well, i s’pose it depends on who ya ask. i _like_ t’ think we do great as roommates ‘nd always have, but _he_ might tell ya that my puns make him feel _il-_ ium.” Sans’ grin spread wider as she snickered. “heh, nah, brotherly _ribbing_ aside, we’re good. howabout you? any siblings?”

“Nope, just me,” she replied, turning forward again and reaching for her wine because _dammit she hated this topic_. “Parents were perfectly happy just having me around.”

“... oh. uh-” Sans began, having caught on to her discomfort, but he was interrupted by a waitress dropping off two steaming plates of food. “Alright, here you two are, anything else I can get you?”

“Yeah, that guy, uh, Kasper was it? He wanted us to try this wine and tell him what we thought,” Tabitha told her.

 _Oh, great, another opportunity for the bar manager to act smarmy at him._ Sans busied himself with grabbing the nearest ketchup bottle in reach and practically emptying the thing over his fries.

“Yeah, he might be busy, but I’ll let him know to see you as soon as he can,” the waitress answered, and with a bubbly “Thanks!” from his drinking buddy, the waitress left.

In a herculean effort to hide how much this whole situation, though necessary to him as it was, was turning him into a _goddamn nervous wreck why was he so easily undone nowadays fucking piece of shit control control control!_ , he made an obvious sweep of his hand in the direction of her own plate. “alright, moment of truth. _who pays for the burger?_ ”

“Hahah, okay, _okay_ , I’m _trying_ it,” Tabitha whined mid-laugh, and she gingerly took up the bun and its contents in both hands and raised it to her mouth.

A near-immediate widening of her eyes told Sans all he needed to know. “so?” he asked aloud anyways, beaming smugly.

Her expression quickly changed into something approaching _annoyed disgust_. “... Fine, it’s absolutely fucking delicious.”

“- _toldja_ ,” he crowed triumphantly, taking several fries into his fingers and munching on them in celebration. After chewing, he quizzed her again: “see? neither dry nor overly greasy, right?”

She swallowed another hearty bite before replying. “Yeah, yeah, you win, brag all you like.”

“heh, won’t do that too much, i promise,” he relented, still impish, while temporarily ignoring the Zinfandel for his fries because _Papyrus hadn’t yet caught on that he was touching alcohol again and he wasn’t about to be caught now_.

The two focused on their food for a while, evidently having the same goal in mind, before Tabitha eventually started: “... So speaking of the warmer weather – I noticed the tables going up outside, are those new?”

“yeah, _brand_ new,” Sans explained. “now that grillbs has gotten enough business ‘n profit, he’s eyeing a bunch of stuff to expand the place beyond the minimum he needed t’ set up at first. sidewalk tables ’re just the start.”

He declined to mention Grillby’s eventual goal of turning the upstairs space into more of a club-like venue for dancing, with different genres catered to throughout the week on a regular schedule. He was trying to forget about it, himself, despite Grillby’s attempts to entice and encourage him with it, _stop just stop being a mother hen Grillby he didn’t need to dance what was he talking about_.

Tabitha was nonetheless excited. “Oh, wow! That’s wonderful for him!” She sighed happily. “I’m glad this place is doing well. You guys all deserve that much. Being able to not just survive but _thrive_ up here, be able to have _more_ , y’know?”

 _Having more_.

Sans nodded and sipped at his wine again, trying to evade what his SOUL was telling him about the _more_ he himself wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grillby u cheeky breeki
> 
> _\- featuring Kasper the friendly host_
> 
> … also, seriously people, if you live in a climate that sees any winter weather, invest in a car wash as soon as the street cleaners have done their thing for spring, the cheapest one that gets the undercarriage will work, once a year, don’t learn the hard way like me *salutes my old Alero and Altima*
> 
> _-see y’all in a week_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The skeleton sighed into his third Madeira of the evening. Papyrus would have his bony ass for it, but he didn’t care at the moment. He was having feelings, and they needed to be drowned.

“-so then i told him, ‘with a branch that size stuck ‘n your wheel well, of _course_ your car wasn’t steerin’ wheel-y well.’”

Tabitha was bent over, shoulders shaking as she tried not to snort into her wings. “A double pun, oh my God. Who groans louder, him or me?”

“oh, him, guaranteed, but only after it took ‘im a _whole minute_ to mentally process the words.” Sans airily raised his wine glass to his mouth. “but th’ _best_ part was how tomato-red his face got when i said ‘alright, should be resolved now that we found the _root_ of th’ problem, sign here please.’”

This time Tabitha actually _did_ snort, throwing her head back so she didn’t accidentally dip her nose into her plate. “Oh my _God_ , you’re terrible!”

“hey, it was a quick fix, not like i was gettin’ paid much in labor fees. had t’ get _something_ out of it.”

“I still can’t believe you called half the garage over to point it out,” Tabitha half-heartedly chastised him, face still split ear to ear.

“heh, a couple of the guys were rollin’ on the ground. y’need a little comic relief from time to time.”

“Well, yeah, sure, especially when you work in a job that puts you face to face with people who treat you like a goddamn fucking _servant_.” Having mostly caught her breath back, she went for another bite of her meal.

He smiled at her, at the breadth in her perspective that he’d come to ~~adore~~ appreciate. “ohhhh yeah, you’d know.”

“Yup.” She paused to chew. A goofy, relaxed grin slid across her mouth. “Service sector for the _fail_.”

_He was going to have to get her to make more of those adorable post-laughter smiles._

Lifting his glass of Cabernet Franc (Kasper’s pick for them this week, and an excellent one at that), he joked, “heh, i’ll drink t’ that. so, ya got any good work stories for me?”

“None as spectacular as yours,” Tabitha conceded, “though I _did_ have one older patient yesterday who was a walking ball of know-it-all. Thought he was smarter than me, and contradicted himself _several times_ trying to prove just how much he didn’t need therapy, mine _or_ a psychologist.”

“-heh! oh yeah? tell me about it,” Sans pressed.

As he listened to her gripe about the middle-aged male who didn’t want to acknowledge his knee problems affecting his ability to golf, Sans kept catching himself going starry-eyed (figuratively) at her, especially whenever she laughed, so genuine and carefree and _beautiful_ , at the validating jokes he made about her less polite patients. It had been like this for the past two weeks, and like every time before, he forced himself to blink the expression away and return to something more playful and friendly.

_He’d never admit to himself that he’d started to live for those melodic sounds, especially when he was the cause._

He continued to arrest the urge that threatened to burst from him at every opportunity for the next several hours, until they’d finished the bottle and she’d realized what time it was and excused herself for the night, smiling brightly as she walked out the door and he waved goodbye. And _like every week before_ , he’d waited until she’d disappeared from the front windows of the bar before letting his skull fall forward onto the counter and exhaling dejectedly.

The only difference was, this week, the wine had somehow been nowhere near enough to help him shut down the yearnings of his SOUL, and while it was typical for him to stick around until last call to be able to catch up with Grillby, tonight he elected not to switch back to those damned virgin mojitos.

… This was going to be incredibly difficult.

* * *

_Sans was in big damn trouble._

The skeleton sighed into his third Madeira glass of the late-evening, which saw a now-less-crowded bar to have to not mirror off of, so that was one annoyance down; and yet, the booze was still entirely and totally necessary. Papyrus would have his bony ass on a platter for it, but he didn’t care at the moment. He was having _feelings_ , and they needed to be drowned.

His eyelights were black, the way they had been for the past few hours. The reverb of the bar’s music made his stifled SOUL strain, offended at his refusal to honor its untrustworthy pull. He was beyond distraction; and it was all beyond _him_. Nothing he did seemed to be able to push those feelings back down into the nameless recessed darkness of his mind where they belonged. Sure, he knew this arrangement where he remained her friend and nothing more was never _going_ to be easy, but he’d been doing just fine so far. Why was he falling apart _now_?

_Why was he losing his carefully groomed sense of self-control?_

Over the thrumming bass from the speakers, the other SOUL-call that he was constantly, _constantly_ working to disregard, he heard familiar footsteps and crackling approach him. ‘ _... I hope you recognize that I have to consider cutting you off soon.’_

“m’fine, grillb,” Sans slurred. “it’s bin’ rough an’ i need it t’night.”

‘ _You know that drinking won’t solve this problem, only a genuine solution will.’_ Grillby had leaned onto the counter in front of Sans, elbows akimbo to be able to be down on his friend’s level.

“ _wha’_ probl’m?” Sans countered stubbornly. “i’ve made’a new frien’, haven’ hadda drinkin’ buddy ‘n _months_. since unnergroun’! ‘d say i’m doin’ pretty good, c’mpared t’ where i was.”

‘ _You know as well as I do, Sans, that she is not merely a ‘friend’ to you.’_

Sans made a pissy face. _Deny it into dust, it doesn’t exist._ “sez you. mebbe tha’ _was_ th’ case, once, bu’ she _asked_ , an’ i’ve bin’ doin’ jus’ that.” He gestured as he talked, the motion sloppy. “haven’ asked anny more’a ‘er. an’ i don’ _plan ‘_ n askin’ more, either. don’ wan’ ta, don’ _need_ ta.”

Grillby raised a skeptical brow, then coughed meaningfully. ‘ _Ahem. To quote you to Kasper, not so long ago: ‘I really like this girl, don’t wreck this for me.’’_

Sans blinked.

Hearing his own words flung back at him like that hit him full-force with the realization that he’d been trying to avoid all night.

He _just couldn’t ignore how much his feelings for this girl had grown,_ and try as he might, he was no longer able to keep his shit together over them, strong as they had become. Given all the ways he was already battling his own self, his own being, his _calling!_ , of _course_ he was breaking down at last. He simply couldn’t combat his own SOUL on so many fronts at once. He _couldn’t_.

_He couldn’t..._

“... i _did_ say tha’, didn’ i.” He sighed painfully as his head slumped into his arms. “... _fuck_.”

The fire monster nodded. ‘ _Very good, we have achieved the first step, awareness and acknowledgement of the problem.’_ He rose slightly, so that his chin was now balanced on his fists, forearms vertical from the counter. ‘ _Now for the next step. You must admit your feelings to her directly, Sans. You will never know peace until you do.’_

The bartender ~~and damn was he good at this~~ may have been right, but Sans was going to fight him every step of the way. He shook his head sadly. “i tol’ja, she’s not _lookin’_ fer anythin’. it’s not fair t’ ‘er t’ put tha’ on ‘er, she’s got’a right t’ do alla tha’ on ‘er own terms.”

‘ _-_ As do you, _on yours_. _Therefore, either at next Saturday’s scheduled meetup or before then, you will inform her of_ your _terms, so that you may find whether your needs are mutually compatible, and if they are not then you will separate amicably.’_

“-i need _friends_ , grillb.” Sans glared at his comrade of so many years. “y’ _know_ i don’ hav’ ‘nuff people t’ spend time with. paps knowzit, too. all m’ ol’ friends fr’m back underground ‘r busy these days, ‘xcept you, fer’a cert’in value ‘f ‘busy’. ‘m not gonna jeop’rdize th’ one good thing i got goin’. won’ let perfect be th’ enemy o’ good, an’ all that.”

Infuriatingly, Grillby stood firm. ‘ _A false equivalency. Keeping your SOUL’s need for true companionship just barely out of arm's reach allows it to transform into false hope, and instead becomes much more harmful than having nothing to begin with. It is tantamount to self-crucifixion.’_

Sans eyed him, a warning in his dimming eyelights. “tha’ssa strong choice o’ words there, buddy.”

‘ _Semantics. I am not wrong.’_ The fire monster scowled right back at him. ‘ _It may begin as an inconvenience, but ending the suffering you are causing yourself will be well worth it, for both yourself and for her.’_

“an’ put th’ decision on _‘er_ shoulders, an’ impose on _‘er_ instead. yeah, sounds _real_ fair t’ me.”

‘ _Again, it may begin an inconvenience, for her included, but it will be much the better in the end.’_ The bartender’s wise words battled with Sans’ deep desire to _not be a hypocrite_ , to never force any sort of raw and visceral choices onto anyone else, like they’d been for him, _that wasn’t okay_. ‘ _We all must do things that are unpleasant, at first. I know you have never shied away from such things in the past.’_

Sans choked back his upwelling emotions. “i can’t do tha’ t’ ‘er,” he mumbled.

‘ _You can’t do this to_ yourself _,’_ Grillby flared dangerously, a sign of his exasperation. ‘ _You have always put others before yourself – your brother, your friends, Frisk. It is neither selfish nor overstepping to ask the Universe for recompense, for once in your starsdamned life.’_

“how would givin’ ‘er ‘n ultimatum like tha’ be recompense,” Sans tiredly answered.

‘ _You would no longer be torturing yourself with resigning over to fate or false hope, and giving yourself a chance for what you truly desire,’_ Grillby responded matter-of-factly.

The skeleton snorted. “an’ then sh’ says ‘no’, an’ i lose anny chance i ‘ad.”

‘ _-_ If _she says ‘no’, which I have my doubts of, but I’ll play along with your little hypothetical nonetheless, then you did not have a chance to begin with.’_ Grillby let an arm fall onto the counter, leaning onto only one palm instead. _‘And then you would at least be free of this torment, and free to find another who_ will _satisfy your emotional needs.’_

Sans laughed weakly. “heh. this’s startin’ t’ sound like schrödinger’s cat.”

The fire monster chuckled mildly; he was well aware of certain basics of quantum mechanics from his old friend. ‘ _Indeed, it is. A superposition of her availability and inavailability in the same moment.’_ The hand that had still been on his jaw came down on the counter, gently, yet still in a firm fist that punctuated his point. _‘But you will never know, or thus be able to discover someone with whom you_ do _have the chance you seek, her_ or _another, unless you open the_ starsdamned box _, Sans.’_

 _His SOUL_ did _yearn for that._ But Sans wasn’t quite yet to accept it, not yet; there was one last, niggling worry, still. “... an’ how is tha’ ben... bene... _bennificial_ for _‘er_ ,” he asked sourly.

‘ _That is simple.’_ Grillby straightened and crossed his arms with authority. ‘ _Do your actions not count as inadvertently leading her on? With friendship in the place of romance?’_ He paused to let his words sink in. _‘It may seem unkind at first, but I assure you, it is ultimately kindest for you both to end this farce sooner rather than later.’_

Well, he couldn’t argue anymore. Grillby had successfully shut down every contention he’d mustered. Sans sighed as he gave up, slumping forward onto the counter and burying his face into his sleeves.

Grillby looked on in sympathy. ‘ _I’m sorry it ever came to this point, my friend. Thank you for listening despite the difficulty, regardless. You know I will continue to help you as much as I can.’_

“bu’ wha’ do i ev’n _say,_ ” Sans lamented, finally feeling wetness beginning to gather in his sockets.

‘ _I would be glad to assist there as well,’_ Grillby offered. It was late, and the bar had by and large already emptied out, after all. ‘ _Here. Open a note-taking app. I will help you devise some talking points that you can use regardless of the medium you use to communicate them.’_

Thoroughly and utterly defeated, Sans nodded slowly. “... m’kay.” He pulled out his smartphone, and he and Grillby got to work.

* * *

Again and again, Tabitha re-read the series of texts Sans had sent her early that morning.

… - _but u ended up being even more amazing than i 1st thought. and my feelings 4 u got a lot stronger_

- _u said u werent looking so i still want 2 respect that. but i cant lead u on with fake friendship like that_

- _if u dont feel the same way as me then i dont think its fair 2 u 2 keep being friends. im sorry 2 make u decide. ill respect ur decision either way_

The last text being the shortest of all of them:

- _im rly rly sorry_

At first she’d cursed her luck, but also thanked her foresight to not open the messages until she’d arrived at work. Now, however, she sat at the table in the breakroom, trying to regain her composure, but only being able to stare blankly at her phone screen as she struggled to stay in control.

Robyn arrived a few minutes later, coming through the back door and starting to shed her jacket with a dramatic sigh. “- _Hahhh!_ Another week of bullshit. At least my mom’s in the new place and it’s just unpacking now, huh? We’ve got our Fridays back at last.”

“-Good,” was all Tabitha could bring herself to say.

Robyn stopped short at the extremely weak and flat tone Tabitha had used. She turned her head, arms half-raised to hang her jacket on the wall hooks, and froze to see how utterly _lifeless_ her friend’s eyes looked. “... Tabs? Everything okay, sweetie?”

And if it were anyone else who had asked her, she would have brushed it off, would have pretended it was nothing, but it was _Robyn_ and Robyn knew, Robyn knew _everything_ , and so she pushed her phone across the tabletop, away from her and slightly towards her only friend, a gesture of offering.

Robyn’s gaze did not leave Tabitha as she finished hanging her coat and walked quickly over. She snatched up the still-unlocked device, and lifted it to her face. Her eyes widened when she realized who the texts were from. “... ‘Hey, I owe you an apology; you said you weren’t looking for a relationship and at first I had every single intention to honor that’...” She trailed off as she finished reading to herself instead. “... … _Wow_.”

Tabitha nodded shallowly and mumbled. “Yeah.”

Robyn’s demeanor quickly transformed into all-business, and she pulled out the chair next to Tabitha’s and sat down next to her. “Alright, sweetie, stream-of-consciousness, what’s going through your head?”

Tabitha was starting to shake in her seat. “I-I don’t know...”

“- _Slowww_ breaths, sweetie,” Robyn cut her off, taking both of her shoulders. Nodding, Tabitha obeyed. _In and out_. “Now. Talk to me. You feel scared?”

Lip quivering, Tabitha nodded again. Robyn let off a single nod of her own. “Alright. Good start, good start. You feel like you’re in danger? You’re gonna be hurt?”

Again, Tabitha nodded, but this time her lips shook open. “H-he was so _nice_ and-and I thought we’d be good f- _friends_ but i-if he was w-working up to this a-all _along_ -”

“-Alright, good, let’s pause there.” Robyn still had her hands on her shoulders, and was looking her straight in the eye. “First of all, he apologized, what, _three times_ in his texts. No fewer. Did shithead ever do that?”

Tabitha paused. “... N-no...”

“Right. And second of all,” Robyn continued, still speaking calmly and kindly, “I don’t think he was ever this _open_ about _any_ sort of situation, either. Now, for all we know, you could be right,” she stated, matter-of-fact, while rubbing her thumbs back and forth. “But with shithead there were signs, _and_ , this time, _we know better_. If this guy ever ends up one-eightying, if he shows _any_ signs, we know what that looks like now, don’t we?”

“Y-yeah,” Tabitha answered, but presently her eyes clenched shut again. “I, b-but I should just n- _not –_ I-I don’t know – i-if I can-”

“-Tabitha, shh, slow down,” Robyn soothed, still circling her thumbs. “What if this guy’s actually okay? What if you _finally_ don’t have to feel so alone anymore, after everything that’s happened? And even if worse comes to worse, or if it just doesn’t work out for normal reasons – you know it’s never the _end_ , right? You know it can be stopped quickly, no one in their right mind could judge you for it, and you know I’ll always be here to help you.”

The door to the main room opened, and a curly-haired woman walked in, only to stop short at the scene in front of her. “-Oooh,” she sounded out cautiously. “Panic?”

“Yeah, I’ve almost got it,” Robyn addressed the newcomer.

“-Hey, no worries. It’s still fifteen minutes ‘til we unlock. I’ll get set up for you both, take your time, just... try to be out there then, okay?”

“Thanks Lori, you got it,” Robyn replied, before turning her attention back to Tabitha. “See? Not even the bosslady’s upset. We get it, sweetie. _No_ judgement.”

Lori was already long gone, but Tabitha still shook her head in distress. “I-I can’t – it’s t-too much, I can’t, I-I’ll never-”

“You certainly won’t unless you _try_ ,” Robyn coaxed her, before pulling her into a hug. “ _Shhhhhhh._ Look, sweetie, I’m on it, you’re not handling this alone, okay? I’m aware of the problem, and it’s only Monday, we got _plenty_ of time to think of solutions and answers. We’re on top of this, okay? You’re not alone. Shhhhh. _Plenty_ of time.”

Tabitha nodded and struggled to slow her breathing. “- _Good job_ ,” Robyn praised her, retreating back to look her in the face again. “We’ll talk more about this later, but it’s going to get _solved_. Alright? We’ll figure out what to say to him later. We got this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -lil' late this week, folks, sorry, but we got a snowstorm and i be shovelinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn'
> 
> awww, Robynnnnn~ <3  
> … this really is the best frens/wingmen feature episode innit
> 
> _Grillby spittin’ straight wisdom like he spits fire_
> 
> huehue Schrödinger’s girlfriend
> 
> best joke interpretation i’ve heard of the thought experiment: does the cat want to be inside or outside? you’ll never know unless you open the door for it
> 
> _see you in a week guys!~ <3_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then, he saw it, out of the corner of his socket. The door had opened, and standing in the entryway... was Tabitha.
> 
> It didn’t feel real. He blinked a few times as he tried to wrap his mind around just what he was seeing. It couldn’t be.
> 
> And if it was... Why?

_Saturday. Still no response_.

If Sans had the choice, he’d have been drinking Maderia since the very start of the evening. As it was, Grillby, evolving beyond his standard mother-hen tendencies, had instead elected to play the role of _complete overprotective fussbudget_ that he was more used to receiving from his brother, and had refused to serve Sans more than one alcoholic drink every single evening this past week.

At least Sans hadn’t been targeted once by the _actual_ busybodying of his real relations. Papyrus was none the wiser to any of what Sans had been experiencing this past week, and Sans supposed he had Grillby to thank for that. Especially given that Grillby, who knew well Sans’ history and his promise to Papyrus, had let him have, well, _any_ alcohol at all, Sans supposed he should even be _grateful_.

But he was starting to get sick of those damned virgin mojitos.

Arms slumped over the bar counter from his shoulders forward, mandible resting on the wood, Sans grudgingly clutched the remnants of his most recent ‘nojito, ice and mint leaves sitting in an otherwise empty glass. Grillby wandered over, ever watchful over his mourning friend. _‘Care for another?’_

Sans sighed angrily. “gimme somethin’ else.”

_‘You know I cannot. That would be far too dangerous for you in your current state.’_ The fire monster thought a moment. _‘Unless I can interest you in a different mocktail.’_

The skeleton rolled his eyelights. His voice remained flat and annoyed. “whadd’ya got.”

_‘I could do a Roy Rogers. Apparently it tastes like fancy cherry Coke.’_

“ugh, no thanks. that sounds even worse.” How humans came up with such utter garbage that was cola-type sodas, he would never know.

_‘-Another virgin mojito it is, then.’_ And with that, the fire monster headed off to prepare it.

Sans sighed again, letting his skull roll to one side, away from the front of the room to protect himself from the inevitable pain of not seeing _her_ walk through the door. The steady roar of the bass from the speakers in the ceiling only added to his anguish as it rebounded in his bones and his SOUL alike.

_He just couldn’t catch a break._

This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to feel less lonely since coming to the Surface. With everyone else busy – Toriel, Alphys, Undyne; heck, even the kid –, and being around his brother too long only ever resulting in interrogation about his abandonment of his innate calling, he’d had too much time to think, and all he could ever think about was the things he’d seen, been forced to experience repeatedly. He didn’t have much in common with his coworkers outside of things directly related to their trade, either; the bar was more or less _it_ , for him. Yet as much as he cared for Grillby, he was weary of having to listen to that _music_ , of spending evening after evening after empty evening without anyone to talk to, with nothing to do, and with nothing to distract him from how things had gone so _wrong_ for him, body and SOUL, from the things only he knew but could never tell anybody else.

He’d tried to make friends or... _alternate_ company for himself, before. But just like every other thing he’d ever strived for, nothing ever panned out. Not for him. Not back then, in the Underground, and certainly not now.

The skeleton sullenly swirled the ice around in his glass, contemplating how useless every last one of his efforts had been. The kid had promised no more Resets, so he’d finally have a chance to try for some happiness of his own – but it had been in vain so far, and he was no longer sure he even _could_ succeed. Not that he was going to quit life, of course. He had to keep going for his bro, he was all Paps had left, but... but beyond that, what was even the _point_?

This had been his best shot to date, and it _still_ didn’t work. He tipped back the last of the ice melt from his glass down his throat, dejected and resigned. Welp, maybe _he_ just wasn’t meant to be happy. That was the only conclusion he could come to at the moment.

He made up his mind to wish this girl well (this one, more than the others, deserved it, even despite her, heh, _ghosting_ him) and try to _stop looking at the stupid clock behind the bar counter dammit, 6:30 was going to come and go uneventfully, there was no damn point in hanging on-_

Fortunately, his view was cut off by a familiar white shirt and vest, from its sleeves emerging a hot red-orange hand that deposited a glass full of _more seltzer and mint and lime on rocks, ugh_ in front of him. He heard the mild fizzling that indicated a thoughtful and saddened hum in the fire-monster’s language. _‘Here you are, my friend. I know they have grown boring for you, so I took the liberty of adding some extra-’_ He suddenly cut himself off, and his hiss dropped low. _‘-Sit up.’_

“... why, so you can look ‘n my face again when ya lecture me?” Sans replied bitterly, switching the hand that had been holding onto the old, empty glass like a life preserver to grasp the new one, and _at least the bite of the cold on the outside of this glass was a new-ish distraction for the time being_.

Grillby hadn’t moved an inch. _‘Get_ up, _Sans, starsdammit, you do_ not _want to look like a boneless slouch at this moment in time!’_

The inadvertent pun might have normally gotten a laugh out of the skeleton-monster, but in the wake of this most recent failure, the perceived accusation only made Sans verge on anger. He _did_ straighten his spine, but it was only to focus Grillby in the fiery eye, as he irately began, “look, pal, you don’t get t-”

-And then, he saw it, out of the corner of his socket.

The door had opened, and standing in the entryway, head scanning the room nervously... was _Tabitha_.

It didn’t feel real. He blinked a few times, sockets dark, staring, jaw shut tightly as he tried to wrap his mind around just what he was seeing. _It couldn’t be._

_And if it was... Why?_

She soon spotted him, their eyes meeting for a few tense seconds. It was Tabitha who broke the gaze, to take her phone out of her pocket and type something on it.

She’d definitely seen him alright, but she still hadn’t begun moving towards him. Sans’ sockets narrowed. _He didn’t like the looks of this._

His eyelights came back again, and, controlling himself into keeping a cool and casual expression, he turned forward to focus on his refill.

A short minute later, he heard footfalls approaching him, soft and slow and tentative, and he knew from past weeks that it was the sound of her feet. Unlike past weeks, however, those footfalls did not approach the stool next to his, but came to a full stop behind him.

Pretending at indifference, at not caring, he set his glass down carefully and looked up.

Tabitha wasn’t even trying to face him, her line of sight only coming as high as his knees where they bent at the edge of his seat. She seemed to be struggling to keep a straight face.

Heh. Well, two could play at that game. Sans gave off a pointedly neutral smile, something he often reserved for work but hadn’t ever for her, until now. He kept his voice smooth, as well. “... hey.”

Tabitha visibly gulped. “... Hi.”

_-That was an unusual greeting from her._ Sans tilted his head slightly. “... uh, didja get my texts?”

Another gulp. One hand came up to grip her opposite bicep. “... Yeah. … I did.”

He would still give her the benefit of not mirroring her empathically, but he wouldn’t make any promises about reading her facial expressions. Now, if only she’d give him something to _work with_. Her lips were pressed flat, eyes not high enough for him to be able to detect anything from them. If it weren’t for the rest of her body language, she’d have looked positively stony.

One corner of his grin tweaking slightly but still effortlessly appearing nonchalant ( _control, control_ ), he delicately creased a supraorbital arch. “... uh, ya didn’t have t’ wait to come all the way here, ya know. a text back would've been fine.”

“... I know.” Hugging herself tighter, her head strayed towards the door. “... I... um... I wanted to say this in person.”

That glance back at the exit told him everything he’d feared. He was starting to feel agitated, although he would never, ever show it. Facing his body back towards the counter a bit and taking his drink up again, he told her, “... ya already told me ya weren’t lookin’, and i already said i’d respect that. ya don’t owe me an explanation. i don’t wanna pressure ya. i get it. y’can just go.”

To his surprise, she inhaled sharply, then held herself even more snugly. “That’s- … um, look, can we move... somewhere? A booth, maybe?”

_Oh boy._ Urging his face to something more friendly ( _control_ ), he closed his eyes and shook his head. “it’s alright. really. i get it. no need t’ defend yourself. it just happens, s’how it is. alright?”

“ _It’s not_ -!” She stopped, fingers fumbling in the hem of her familiar gray sweater. _Inhale, exhale_. “... Just... can we go where it’s quiet?... _Please?_ ”

Sans paused. After the week of radio silence, he’d found himself irritated at her presence, but even with him giving her an easy out so he selfishly wouldn’t be subject to this conversation, _she wasn’t biting_.

Moreover, her voice had shaken slightly on its last word, and that, in turn, had shaken him out of his bristling long enough to realize that _her knuckles were turning white in her anxiety-fueled grip_.

… _dammit, sans, if you hadn’t been so caught up in your own head you could’ve noticed it sooner!_ He grabbed his glass and hopped down from the stool. “... okay. private spot? you got it. let’s go. there’s ‘n open booth that way.”

She nodded, and followed mutely as he led them over. He stood at the end of the booth he’d spotted, raising an arm in the direction of the benches to indicate that she could choose her seat first, and once she had picked a side, arms still encircling herself and gaze still on the floor, he sidled himself into the space across from her.

He patiently waited for her to begin speaking, but she stayed nearly motionless. He tried to smile reassuringly. “go right ahead. i’m listenin’.”

“... O-okay.” She drew a breath, and then let out a broken laugh as she covered her face one-handed. “... Um... heh, this is hard.”

Sans nodded back. “s’okay. take your time.”

Tabitha gulped one more time – he was quickly losing count. “... Th-thanks.” She breathed in again. “... … So, um... yeah. Robyn...”

… Now Sans was confused. Still maintaining a soft voice, he asked, “... uh, your friend? what’s your friend got t’ do with this?”

“-I’m... I’m getting there.” Her hand on her shoulder had started to knead at the knotwork of her cardigan sleeve, and he wisely decided to keep his mouth firmly shut. “... So... I’ve, uh, been talking through this with her, um, all week. S-so that’s why... … I-I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. It took us that long to... to talk about it.”

_Oh. She apologized._ His grin widened, genuine now. “hey, it’s alright. no worries.”

“... Sorry. Uh.” She blew out an exhale through tiny-pursed lips, then awkwardly smiled. “Um. But yeah. She’s been helping me with this. ‘Cause, uh, she’s my best friend, y’know? Even... even after trying to set us up like that.” Another damaged chuckle, as her fingers continued to claw at her sweater, the tips at times slipping into the spaces in the weft. “She... she really does just want the best for me. Even if she gets, um, a little zealous about it sometimes.”

Sans barked out a small laugh himself. “i dunno, that might qualify for more’n a ‘little’.”

“Heheh, yeah.” Tabitha leaned onto her elbows, though her arms still hugged her shoulders, relaxing slightly in response to the break his humor provided. “... But, um, she has good reason for it, I guess. She’s helped me through... a _lot_.” Another inhale, longer and _deeper_. “M-my ex-”

-And then she stopped, clammed up, arms withdrawing towards her center and into herself, and in a swift lightning stroke, Sans realized that her “not looking” had a whole lot more weight behind it than she had initially let on.

His face fell, eyelights guttering to black. She still wasn’t talking again just yet, silenced by distress, wringing her hands repeatedly in her sweater, seemingly unable to find the words.

So he stepped in. Tilting his head down a bit to be able to catch her eyes, even if slightly, he gave an incredibly gentle smile. “hey. it’s alright. ya don’t have t’ tell me anythin’ you’re not ready to.”

Those words must have knocked her out of her trance, because she startled a bit, eyes meeting re-lit sockets briefly before her stare shot back to her feet. “... Yeah. … Th-thank you.”

_Stars, he was reminded so strongly of how nervous she’d been just to ask to be_ friends _with him._ If only he’d trusted his (metaphorical) gut, back then, about her having a history. _Maybe then, he wouldn’t have gotten so upset at her for something that so very clearly wasn’t her doing._

His SOUL felt so, so ugly and _loud_.

He nodded again to her, quiet. “dunno if ya were finished, so... go ahead.”

“... Right. So, uh. See, the thing is... she’s, um, all I have. I... I don’t have anyone else.” Her back slumped, the smallest bit. “... So I think, like... maybe... I _should_?”

“... doll, _stop_.” His expression had gone serious, corners of his teeth angling into something that could have been taken for a frown. “look, doin’ somethin’ just because ya ‘should’ is the worst possible reason to be doin’ anythin’.” Especially for this girl, considering that _whatever this fucking prick bastard did, it was evidently so awful that she couldn’t bring herself to name it out loud._ “if you’ve been hurt, an’ you’re not ready yet, that’s absolutely your right t’-”

“- _No!_ ” she burst out, and he froze mid-sentence. She gritted her teeth before continuing. “... Like... … I _hate_ where I am in life. I don’t have _anybody._ I have no other friends, I don’t ring up my parents. I have nobody to talk to. Except Robyn, a-and, uh...” She trailed off again, and Sans knew he was the end of that particular line. Tabitha eventually picked up her place again: “... It... it really... _really fucking sucks_. So, maybe...” She fell silent.

… Sans was dumbfounded. _Finally, he understood._ He understood the issue at hand, but more importantly, he understood just how much courage she’d had to summon just to say even as much as she did.

This wasn’t exactly something he’d had experience with, before. Not with being on this end of the equation (and he grudgingly had to respect his brother a little more, now). It was a bit daunting, having to plan about how to handle this with kid-leather gloves on, even as he was thinking up some ideas on-the-fly for right now.

But now he had hope in all of this again. She was demonstrably kind, and funny, and _beautiful_ , and if she was willing and wanting to find happiness then _stars, would he try to help_.

Slowly, he leaned his skull down, trying to catch her eye again. When she didn’t take the bait, he smiled brightly, but gently. _Control_. “... hey. … hey. i hear ya. no worries at all,” he murmured.

Tabitha took a shaky breath, and Sans jumped in, voice still calm and even. “shhhh, okay. okay. hey, howsabout this then. – we’ll just, go on a couple of dates. low-key stuff, nothin’ fancy or crazy. see how it feels. no pressure whatsoever.” He’d raised himself a bit, though he remained in a lowered posture, so that he wouldn’t be intrusive but would still be on her level, a halfway point between the two needs. “you call the shots. we go as slow as ya want. you’re not feelin’ it, we can call the whole thing off.” He paused a moment to measure her reaction. “... does that sound good to you? any changes or quid-pro-quos ya wanna add?”

… _He’d actually mentioned everything she had wanted to_. Tabitha shook her head, saline clouding her eyes in her relief despite herself.

Sans could almost feel that _relief_ washing over him like an ocean current. “... hey. y’alright?”

This time, Tabitha nodded back. “... I’m okay.” The heel of her free palm rubbed below her eyes, trying to dry her cheeks.

Wordlessly, Sans searched around before grabbing some paper napkins from the table dispenser and handing them to her.

“... Thank you,” she said as she took them, using them to dab carefully at her lower lids.

Sans gave her another reassuring smile. “no problem.” He kept watching her kindly as she worked. “... just remember, _you_ call the shots. you run this show. okay? i’ll go by whatever ya say or want.”

Nodding again, Tabitha caught her shivering breath. “... Okay.”

“thereeee ya go.” He continued to smile, keeping his tone low and nearly whisper-soft. _He had this._ “first things first. ya need space or company tonight, after sayin’ that stuff?”

She was silent for a long moment. “... I’m... not sure I want to be alone.”

“-then we do what _you_ want,” Sans calmly asserted, still keeping a protective watch over her. “... have ya eaten yet? should we get ya somethin’?”

Tabitha shook her head. “It’s... been kinda hard to eat, lately.”

Sans’ expression trickled into one of concern. “... well, ya gotta keep your strength up.” He thought for a bit. “think ya could manage some wings?”

She considered his words. “... Probably.”

“then let’s try that.” He turned to flag down one of the waitstaff. “-some water too, probably. rehydrate ya a bit.”

She nodded, and while one of the waitresses made her way over, Tabitha pulled her phone out of her pocket to send what Sans now knew to likely be a message to Robyn, as it would have also been when she first arrived, letting her friend know that all was well. He did not begrudge her the lifeline, especially since she was careful to have her phone away by the time she looked up to give the waitress her order. Neither did Sans judge the glass of Syrah she ordered for herself – not after having to touch upon that obviously quite heavy subject. He did not offer a single word or reaction, positive or negative, although he himself did stick to nojitos for the rest of the night.

The pair ate quietly, except for Sans asking if she had any allergies or restrictions he should be aware of, anything life-threatening to be careful for, which she declined, saying that her only allergies were to some prescription-only medications, stuff that wasn’t likely to come up anyway. When she asked the same in return, he simply smiled and told her that there was nothing she had to worry about.

Their Saturday hangout ended a little early this week, with Tabitha texting Robyn again soon after she’d finished eating and walking to the door herself; but she seemed a little more relaxed, if a tad exhausted on her emotions, when she and Sans parted ways for the night. For his part, although he carefully hid it until she had left the bar so as not to frighten her off ( _slow, go_ slow), Sans was absolutely _ecstatic_ , shrouding his face in his hat and hood for a brief giggle to himself before picking up his drink and returning to his customary stool at the counter.

… He had a _lot_ to talk over with Grillby if he was going to do this right.

* * *

Robyn dropped Tabitha back off at the door to her apartment building.

“You good from here?” she asked as Tabitha exited her car.

“Yeah,” she replied, stepping onto the sidewalk. “... Thanks for the rides. Both ways.”

“Hey, no problem.” As Tabitha closed the car door and turned towards the building, Robyn rolled the window down and yelled out, “... _Hey!_ ”

Tabitha’s head jerked towards the car again. Attention grabbed, Robyn told her, “... I’m really proud of you for taking that first step today.”

Despite her still-present anxiety, Tabitha smiled a little. “... Thanks.”

“If you need any more de-briefing or reviewing what happened, you call me, okay?” Robyn was practically hanging over the passenger seat so she could keep talking. Tabitha giggled at the sight.

“I will. Go home, lady. I’m good for today.” She began to pull out the building key on her keyring.

“... Alright. If you wanna chill when I’m out of work tomorrow, let me know.” Finally, Robyn was leaning back upright in the driver’s seat.

“Love ya too, _Mom_ ,” Tabitha joked back, and Robyn stuck her tongue out playfully as she rolled the window back up.

Tabitha headed inside, scurrying up the stairs to the third floor and down the hall to her unit. She locked the door behind her first before pulling off her sweater and kicking off her shoes.

It was still early enough that she considered parking her rear on the couch and switching on the TV, but the deep ache in her limbs told her that she was probably better off going straight to bed. She’d most likely been subconsciously holding on to a lot of tension during work today. Little wonder.

She changed and got through her night routine fairly quickly, her last act of the day to send Robyn a final, quick text, before putting her phone on vibrate and plugging it in on her nightstand. More than ready to shut the world and its cares away until tomorrow, she switched off the bedside lamp, snuggled under the covers, and turned onto her side.

Her phone vibrated almost immediately.

Tabitha rolled her eyes. It wasn’t unlike Robyn to reply that fast, even while driving (although she knew she at least used her phone’s voice assistant, so it was relatively safe – _relatively_ ). She picked her phone back up to read whatever it was Robyn had sent.

Only it wasn’t Robyn. It was Sans.

Her eyes widened at the lock-screen popup with his first text:

\- _hey hope this is ok 2 say but_

… And she similarly found herself unable to look away as his follow-up messages arrived, one by one:

\- _i want 2 acknowledge u being brave 2 talk 2 me and how much i admire that_

\- _so if bringing all that stuff up gives u nightmares 2nite 1. im sorry 2. try 2 remember how brave u were 2day and hold on 2 that feeling_

\- _hang in there_

… She couldn’t bring herself to reply, not with all of the past implications that that once held. But she did, on impulse, only for a brief moment, clutch her phone to her heart before replacing it on the nightstand and rolling over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> d(;w;)b Teh babbus finally did it y’all  
> theyy overcame the baggage and had The Talk (tm) and now they gonna do the thiiiiiiing
> 
> … so, like, I only learned the day i started this chapter that another name for a virgin mojito is a ‘nojito’. who knew??
> 
> and yes i hc that Sans or at least DanceSans detests cola for some reason. it’s not carbonation, not ALL soda, just coke/pepsi. [and it may have a lil somthin to do with how it can _clean off coins goddamn wut wud tht do to bones_ ]
> 
> … not much to say here. Xcept get reddy for sum cute outings, starting next week :3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tabitha pulled her phone out of her pocket preemptively, the popup notification from Sans’ text earlier that week still uncleared from her lock screen:
> 
> _\- usual grillbys hangout this wk?_

Sans shortcutted straight home from the garage this week. _Thank the stars for the smaller workday on Saturdays, that was the only reason he had the free moment._ The skeleton hardly stopped to rest once he had arrived, though – instead, he made his way to his room, then to his closet, which he paused in front of, pulling the folding door open and standing before his limited arsenal of clothing, a vexed and harried look slowly crossing his skull.

He had to figure out what to wear tonight.

He was dead-set on leaving a good impression on this girl, who had definitely seen some shit and who he wanted to treat well for once in her life – but she was also, definitely, insecure and anxious, with good reason even if he didn’t yet know exactly what said reason was, and he didn’t want to overcommit, to go too hard and too fast and scare her off. Whatever he picked out today, it had to be just the right balance of “nice” and “casual.”

_He had to do this just right for her_.

As he stared at the contents of his closet, phalanges tugging on his chin in thought, his brother poked his head in his doorway. “... BROTHER? ALTHOUGH I AM GLAD TO SEE YOU STOP BY HOME AFTER WORK FOR ONCE, I AM ALSO SOMEWHAT CONFUSED. DO YOU NOT USUALLY HEAD TO GRILLBY’S BAR STRAIGHTAWAY?”

“- _paps!_ ” Sans exclaimed, a bit caught off guard by Papyrus’ sudden appearance. Well, maybe not _so_ sudden, considering his studio would have closed for the day a half-hour ago. “uh, hey, yeah, i mean, i would've, but, uh, got somethin’ t’ do tonight.”

“-OH? THAT REALLY _IS_ UNUSUAL.” Papyrus stepped further into the room, leaning his lanky frame on the inside of Sans’ door. “WHAT SORT OF EVENT IS THIS THAT YOU ARE BOTHERING TO EVALUATE WHAT TO WEAR FOR IT?”

… _Ah, shit_. Sans smiled uneasily. “it’s, uh, a professional-development meetin’ of sorts,” he lied.

He had lots of reasons to, this time – if he’d told the truth, he knew Papyrus would want to meet her, and it was _too soon, it wasn’t even official and she would be frightened away_. But on top of that, if Papyrus had then proceeded to wring out of him how they had met and what they shared in common – and he _would,_ most definitely – then Sans would have to reveal his technically-broken promise, and that was emphatically _not_ happening. He just prayed that his white lie would fly under Papyrus’ radar.

Unfortunately, it did. The younger skeleton’s face and eyes brightened. “THAT IS _WONDERFUL_ , SANS!” he cried out, visibly excited. “I AM SO GLAD TO SEE YOU STRIVING FOR GREATER, EVEN IF IT IS A FIELD I WOULD NOT HAVE CHOSEN MYSELF!”

“ _yeahhh_ ,” Sans agreed for the sake of peace, feeling sweat gather at the back of his cervical vertebrae. “heh, uh, now if ya don’t mind, i gotta get ready...”

“OF COURSE, DEAR BROTHER! WE MUST GET YOU PROPERLY ATTIRED AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, SO THAT YOU MAY ARRIVE PUNCTUALLY!” Papyrus strode headlong into the room, immediately stepping in front of Sans’ view of the sparsely-populated closet and picking out various hangers from it.

“um, bro, what’s this ‘we’ you’re talkin’ about,” Sans warned him, an uneasy sensation creeping up his spine. “heh, didn’t i raise ya? i can dress myself just fine, thank you...”

“NONSENSE! KNOWING YOUR HABITS AND IN RETURN FOR YOUR RESPONSIBLE-ENOUGH PARENTAGE, IT REALLY IS THE LEAST I CAN DO!” He had already laid out several items on the bed neatly, swiftly mixing and matching shirts and pants to his liking.

Sans observed his brother’s efforts with increasing dread. “... uh, bro, this’s a meeting for _mechanics_ , i’m not goin’ in somethin’ real fancy-”

“-OF COURSE NOT, SANS! I WOULD NOT SEND YOU TO SOMETHING LIKE THAT IN A TUXEDO! EVEN _I_ KNOW WHAT CONSTITUTES ‘TOO MUCH’!” With precision and grace nearly equal to that which he used while dancing, Papyrus eventually settled on a solid blue shirt and a pair of dressy denims with not a single rip in them. “... HRM, WE REALLY MUST GET YOU SOME KHAKIS OR SOMETHING MORE IN THE MIDDLE TIER FOR PANTS. I AM NOT KEEN ON YOU ATTENDING THIS IN, ugh, JEANS, BUT YOUR NEXT-NICER PANTS ARE IN FACT YOUR _NICEST_ ONES, AND I AM LOATHE TO RISK YOU GETTING MOTOR OIL ON THEM OR WHATEVER ELSE YOU MIGHT ENCOUNTER.”

“heh, not at a meetin’ like this, bro.” Sans grinned impishly. “i mean, pizza grease, maybe.”

“... THAT STILL PROVES MY POINT.” Papyrus had already gathered up the offal from his selections and returned the excess items to the closet rod. “... ALRIGHT, PUT THESE ON. SINCE YOU DO NOT APPEAR TO HAVE ANY TIES OF YOUR OWN, I WILL LEND YOU ONE OF MINE. I AM OFF TO FETCH ONE. I’LL BE RIGHT BACK!”

“wait, bro, ya don’t-” Sans started, but it was too late, and his brother had already left. Letting off an almighty sigh, Sans shook his head and began to change before Papyrus’ return. By the time he had reappeared in the entry to the room, Sans was already doing up the buttons on his dress shirt.

Papyrus grunted in displeasure. “MY WORD, BROTHER, YOU OUGHT TO KNOW BETTER BY NOW! YOU REALLY SHOULD BE TUCKING YOUR SHIRT IN FOR THESE SORT OF THINGS.” He moved hurriedly to correct the perceived transgression, forcibly stuffing the lower portion of the crisp fabric into the waistband of the jeans as neatly as he could manage despite Sans’ guttural protests. “-NOW, THE BLUE SHIRT WILL ACCENT YOUR MAGIC NICELY, BUT A BLUE TIE ON TOP OF SUCH WOULD BE TOO ‘MATCHY’, SO I BELIEVE A DARK RED TIE WOULD _SUIT_ THIS OUTFIT BEST, AND _TIE_ INTO THE DARK OF THE JEANS WE HAVE CHOSEN FOR YOU!” And with that, Papyrus flipped Sans’ collar up and tossed the length of cloth around his neck.

“bro, wait, stop-” – but Papyrus’ deft hands were too quick, slotting one end of the fabric through the other, transforming it all into a sturdy and neat knot at the place where Sans’ clavicles met in the center before pulling it a touch tighter and higher. “REMAIN IN YOUR NATURAL POSTURE FOR ME! DO NOT SLOUCH, BROTHER! – THERE! NOW, LET’S TAKE A LOO- … OH, DEAR.”

Sans glanced down at himself, and couldn’t help but to start laughing uproariously. The tie, more suited for taller beings like his brother, came all the way down past his crotch.

Equally disturbed but dis-equally opined about it, Papyrus’ hand came to rest on his mandible, which he rubbed thoughtfully. “... WELL, THAT CERTAINLY WON’T DO. HERE, LET ME HAVE THAT BACK, AND I WILL SEE IF I HAVE ANY THAT ARE SHORTER.” He was already undoing the braid at Sans’ proverbial throat.

Finally catching his voice again, Sans wheezed, insistent, “heheh, b-bro, no one else there will be wearin’ a tie, heheh, i guarantee it, it’ll just look weird...”

Papyrus only answered, “ALL THE MORE REASON TO WEAR ONE SO THAT YOU APPEAR PROFESSIONAL AND BOTH WANTING AND DESERVING OF THE POSITION. I WILL RETURN SHORTLY.” He then left the room again, the unusable tie in his hand.

Sans shook his head again as he finished buttoning his cuffs (he could unbutton those later, but it would appease Papyrus for now). This time, it took a while for Papyrus to come back, teeth gritted tightly together as he brandished a fleet of ties over his outstretched forearm.

“TO MY GREAT CHAGRIN, I DO NOT APPEAR TO HAVE ANY TIES THAT ARE APPRECIABLY SHORTER THAN THE ONE WE HAD FIRST SETTLED ON.” He rifled through the stock he had picked out as he muttered (though still loudly) to himself. “LET’S SEE... I BELIEVE THIS ONE WAS THE SHORTEST OF THE BUNCH... WE WILL INEVITABLY HAVE TO TAKE YOU TO A SPECIALTY STORE FOR ONE IN YOUR SIZE FOR THE FUTURE, OR PERHAPS WE COULD FIND ONE MORE EASILY ONLINE...”

Again far too deftly, his hands circled Sans’ neck, the strip of fabric skinnier and eggplant-purple this time, and again when Papyrus stepped back to observe his handiwork, he was thoroughly disappointed. “... DRAT. I DO NOT HAVE ANYTHING THAT EFFORTLESSLY FITS YOUR SHORT STATURE, I AM AFRAID.” He began to rub his chin harder. “... I PROBABLY COULD FIGURE OUT A WAY TO DOUBLE IT UP AROUND YOUR COLLAR AND HAVE IT END HIGHER...”

Not entirely untruthfully, seeing as he wanted to be at the bar early to rehearse with Grillby, Sans painted on a pseudo-helpless expression. “no time, bro. i gotta start headin’ over, or i’ll be late.”

Papyrus seemed utterly distressed, but he relented. “... VERY WELL, THEN. I SUPPOSE YOUR APPEARANCE IS CLEAN AND NEAT ENOUGH, PROVIDED THAT YOU WEAR YOUR ALL-BLACK SHOES INSTEAD OF YOUR USUAL SNEAKERS.”

“that’s the plan.” Sans picked out said black-laced black low-tops, as well as the plain black cap he’d been wearing that day, replacing it back on his head with the visor forward over his face.

Papyrus quirked a critical browbone. “BROTHER, DO NOT TELL ME YOU ARE WEARING THAT HAT TO YOUR MEETING?”

“-only in transit, bro. i’ll take it off when i’m there.” Another lie. Gathering his blue hoodie into his arms (even if he didn’t wear it for once due to the mismatch with his current attire, by the stars, he was still going to have _both_ his security blankets on hand), he slid his closet door shut with a subdued _clack_.

“... WELL, I SUPPOSE THAT WOULD BE ALRIGHT. AT LEAST THAT COULD BE EASILY STOWED WITH YOUR JACKET, WHICH I ALSO NOTICE YOU ARE NOT WEARING OUTRIGHT.” Papyrus’ eyes and face gentled. “I AM AWARE ENOUGH OF YOUR IDIOSYNCRASIES THAT I WOULD NOT BEGRUDGE YOU HAVING THOSE NEARBY.”

“ _heh_ , thanks paps.” Straightening his now tie-less collar, Sans checked himself one last time in the mirror that was attached to the back of his closet door.

To his surprise, he didn’t look too awful. Papyrus was no slouch in styling and color, and the ensemble as a whole was well put-together. Maybe the dress shirt was excessive, but that was the least of his worries. _Thank the stars his brother had given up on his quest to put him in a tie._ The collar and sleeves he could tastefully muss up later, no problem, but a tie would be harder to get rid of.

Especially the dark red tie, that was the worst of them; the crimson stripe along his ribcage would’ve been too reminiscent of a certain memory he _didn’t ever want to recall again if he could help it, thanks_.

“THERE, BROTHER!” Papyrus beamed encouragingly, watching over his brother’s shoulder in the mirror. “YOU LOOK POSITIVELY DASHING, IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF!”

“... thanks, paps. you’re the best.” Clutching his hoodie tightly and smiling, he turned to his brother as his grin started becoming teasingly wide. “alright, this _dashing_ skeleton’s gotta _dash_ , or he’ll really be _runnin’_ late for sure.”

“ _... NYEHHHH._ ” The taller skeleton’s sockets narrowed at the deliberate puns.

“heh, too bad bro, ya kinda _walked_ into that one.” Doffing his hat jokingly, Sans’ left eye lit a luminous sapphire as he prepared to shortcut. “right, i’m off. see ya tonight.”

“HAVE A GOOD MEETING, BROTHER!” Papyrus called back as Sans stepped into that in-between space before re-emerging in the alleyway behind Grillby’s.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Sans walked around the building to the front door. He wanted to make sure he was prepared for the evening, and Grillby had already volunteered his advice beforehand. Only now, his first stop, instead of the counter, would be the bathroom, to un-fancify himself a bit.

* * *

_6:32. Not late, still fashionable._ Tabitha stepped out of Robyn’s car at the curb outside of Grillby’s.

It was early June now, and the sun beamed brightly down on the asphalt and concrete and grass, sending up warming smells into the air, soothing her even in spite of the fresh little breeze that sent goosebumps across the back of her neck.

Or maybe it wasn’t the breeze so much. She pulled her phone out of her pocket preemptively, the popup notification from Sans’ text earlier that week still uncleared from her lock screen:

\- _usual grillbys hangout this wk?_

Her nerves were interrupted by Robyn calling from her car: “Let me know when you’re in and settled! I’ll spin around the block if I have to, ‘kay?”

Tabitha faced back towards her friend briefly with a smile, a wave, and a cheerful “I will!” as Robyn grinned back and, mindful of idling in a no-parking zone, pulled away sooner rather than later.

Turning forwards again, she took a breath to steel herself. _Sans had not only agreed to the terms she would need in order to be able to give this a shot, but he had even been the one to freely suggest them himself._ She kept repeating Robyn’s reminders to herself, in her head – if she wasn’t getting anything out of this, she could simply end the arrangement, and it would have no bearing on the future.

Besides, this was just a usual Saturday hangout. Sans had promised simplicity and low-key. Right?

Gathering her confidence as best she could, she opened the door to the bar and walked in.

When she entered, she was quickly comforted by the music, as always, streaming out of the ceiling speakers. Out of habit, she scanned the stools along the bar itself. Unusually, however, none of the seats at the counter were being taken up by the skeleton monster she was here to see.

… Well, if this was his usual spot, per his own words... maybe he was in the bathroom? She approached the counter anyway, keeping an eye out for the fire-monster bartender that Sans was supposedly such good friends with, and, finding him quickly, gave him a wave.

He noticed her and came striding over, his tall orange form flickering softly in the long sunbeams that came in through the windows. Tabitha smiled nervously and asked him, “Hey, um, is Sans here...?”

The fire monster ( _Grillby, right?_ ), the flames outlining his head and hands crackling and hissing in what almost sounded like its own language despite being unfortunately indistinguishable to her, nonetheless raised a single finger that pointed at the booths towards the rear of the bar.

Tabitha turned her head to follow the direction he was pointing in. Spotting a figure in a familiar black cap on one of the bench seats, she thanked the fire monster and began to walk over... but once she got closer to the booth, she saw something rather _different_.

He was in a powder blue button-down, untucked, with the top few buttons open and the sleeves messily rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his radii and ulnae. Instead of black track pants, today he was wearing jeans in a dark wash. Not particularly fancy, but nicer enough than his everyday getup that Tabitha could tell he was trying, while still holding back a bit.

She giggled behind her hand, and Sans looked up uneasily. “hey, what’s so funny?” he asked, his grin twitchy and lopsided. “is it th’ shirt? … fuck, i _knew_ it might be too much.”

“-I dunno, that depends on what you’re planning.” She took a seat opposite him, still chuckling a bit. “Hehe, it’s just my first time seeing you out of a tee-shirt and hoodie, that’s all. … It looks nice,” she finished, the honesty of the comment showing in the slight pink that crested the apples of her cheeks.

“heh, thanks,” he replied, tensely scratching the back of his neck. “... and, uh, speakin’ of plans, well, for today i figured we could keep it simple, kind’a just do our usual thing here an’ follow up with... a walk? – uh, there’s a place with benches that’s only a couple blocks away, and it’s well-lit, so it should be safe, but, uh, it’s up t’ you.”

The thought unnerved her, but she’d driven down the street before in her comings and goings from this bar, knew it was full of businesses and people and that if they went shortly after dinner it’d still be light out, and that was the only reason she answered “Alright, sounds good to me.”

He seemed to cotton on to her anxiety, but he quickly smiled at her affirmation. “alright. if ya change your mind, just let me know, okay? no judgment or anythin’ if ya do, promise.”

Tabitha nodded, then closed her eyes. _Slow inhale, slow exhale._ Sans waited patiently for her to set her purse aside and shed her standard gray cardigan, smiling gently at her. “... okay. otherwise, it’s absolutely nothin’ different than what we’re used to. nice an’ simple. so.” His face transformed into a smug grin. “need a menu, or ya set on what ya want yet?”

Trying not to shake, Tabitha opened her eyes again to look at him, and _damn if he didn’t look suave in that outfit_. She played it all off with a mild laugh. “Heh, I’m almost surprised you need to ask by now.”

“-heh! wings ‘n salad, got it.” He shot her back an easy wink. “just, uh, wanted t’ say ya could get whatever ya wanted, tonight. it’s on me. last difference, tonight. that’s it.”

The offer gave Tabitha pause, made her shrink back. “... Oh, um-”

A rabbit-species waitress was already at the end of their table, notepad out to take down their order. “Hello, folks! What can I get started for you?”

In the searing absence of Tabitha’s voice, Sans began: “... a burger, please, with fries, _and_ extra ketchup, you know me, heh.” He turned to his dinner partner: “for you, tabitha?”

-Only to see how _small_ Tabitha had become, shoulders hunched inward and shriveled into herself as she was. He stopped, worried – _oh shit gotta fix gotta fix-_. “... you okay?”

When her shoulders rose with her breath, he saw their quivering. To his surprise, she finally spit out: “-C- _Can we split checks?_ ”

And without _trying_ he felt her _fear distrust compliance helplessness pressure isolation fear fear fear_

… Not exactly something he was expecting. But he rolled with it. Took a deliberate breath, and answered, calm and cool: “sure thing. whatever ya need.”

- _surprise doubt vulnerable withdrawal anxious doubt anxious._ Not quite there yet, then.

The bunny waitress, clearly a little confused, glanced back and forth between the two bar patrons. “... Um, if you need a minute it’s no trouble, I can come back-”

“-I’m good,” Tabitha quickly returned, forcibly catching hold of her breath, snapping herself into iron functionality. “Um... wings, medium. And a side salad.”

As the waitress dutifully jotted it all down, Sans smiled soothingly. “water?”

“... Yeah, a water for me, please,” she murmured. “And, um... d-do... do you want wine tonight, Sans?” she asked carefully.

He grinned back. “only if you do. wanna share, or go separate?”

“I... I’m probably getting the Syrah, so, um, you don’t have to do the same thing,” she offered.

“i didn’t _dis_ like th’ syrah, ya know,” Sans chuckled, turning back to the waitress and saying, “i’ll have a glass of the house syrah, please.”

“... One for me, as well,” Tabitha added.

“-Perfect! I’ll go put all that in. Separate checks, gotcha. Enjoy!” The rabbit finished writing up the order and headed off.

The adrenaline of her initial outburst began to depart her, and it left Tabitha quaking, numb in her seat. Her head bent forward to gaze at her hands, wringing themselves in her lap, feeling awful because _why couldn’t she just calm down and enjoy this it was normal of a guy to cover NO NO HE-_

“-hey, doll. look at me?”

Tabitha’s instinctual response was to clench her eyes shut tight enough to _hurt_ , and Sans let his soft, baritone murmur be her guide instead: “hey, _hey_ , nooooooo worries. i said you call the shots, an’ i mean it. _no contest._ not gonna ask, not gonna argue, not gonna question it, ‘nd i’m most _certainly_ not gonna judge ya for it. okay?”

… Tabitha nodded, trying to absorb his words, and willing her shoulders to relax so they could fall away from her neck and into a less painful position. She forced another breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth, before chancing looking up at him.

He hadn’t moved at all, still smiling _oh so gently_ at her. “there ya go. ya gettin’ overwhelmed? there’s nothin’ wrong with needin’ a break. doesn’t matter what point we are ‘n the night.”

“... I’m okay.” She steadied herself, placed both of her hands flat near the edge of the tabletop. “It’s... I’m sorry. That... probably wasn’t comfortable to see.”

She was put off to see that skeletal grin loosen so deeply at the mandibular joints that it actually resembled a frown somewhat, although to an outside observer he may have looked more neutral-faced.

“... the one who’s gotta apologize for any of this, isn’t you. okay? not for _one_ second. you’re the one puttin’ yourself out there and givin’ me a chance, an’ trustin’ me even just this little bit. it’s the least i can do t’ meet ya where you are, an’ work with it. _you call the shots_. i follow. alright?” he ended, voice still whispery around the edges and light as a feather, just as when he’d still been smiling.

Her jaw easing reflexively at his soft tone, she found herself nodding again, clasping her hands together in her lap in a more natural gesture. _His being so calm and collected himself was a help._

“look, ya feel uncomfortable at any point, need t’ stop or even just change what we’re doin’, you let me know an’ i’ll go with it, no question. this is about _your_ comfort level. meanwhile, we can just pretend like this is any other saturday. alright?” The corners of his grin perked back upwards. “now. we can... start talkin’ about how work was, this week. _any normal saturday_. that sound okay?”

… He was checking in with her frequently, and seemed to be observing her to gauge how she was doing. Tabitha had two sides at war within her, unsure whether that made her feel reassured, or intruded upon. But hey, in a bar, she could raise her voice and get help if needed, right? At least it was public.

She took a moment to consciously let the deep-reverb bass of the background music permeate her body, give her racing heart a focus to follow and calm itself to. At last, her mouth curled into a hesitant smile of her own. “... Okay.”

His grin widened in response. “... heh, good. ya wanna start?”

She shook her head. “You can.”

“heh, alright.” He leaned back in his seat, phalanges braced on the edges of the table. “eh, not much t’ talk about, was a pretty boring week at work for me. now’s the time of year when a bunch of people discover their air conditioners aren’t workin’, an’ they bring ‘em in. most of the time it’s idiots who should’ve checked their coolant levels first.”

Tabitha found herself chuckling, though the usual force of it was halved by the whirlpool of emotions she’d just been subjected to. “Hahah, they could’ve saved themselves time _and_ money.”

“heh, yeah, but they’re usually too classy or important for that,” he quipped, pushing a thumb against his nasal aperture and lifting his head, the old derisive “snob” sign, and Tabitha chuckled again at it, which seemed to placate him. Tilting his skull in interest, he gazed at her. “how was your week?”

She considered his question, carefully formulating an answer. “... Mostly okay, though there’s been one patient lately who’s been frustrating.”

His skull remained at a listening angle. “... oh yeah? how so?”

“Well...” Tabitha took a moment to mentally translate the medical jargon she was used to using into layman terms. “... The thing is, it’s not even because she’s rude or anything. She’s just, well... a really bad and unaware patient.”

Sans’ browbones lowered. “what, not doin’ her exercises or somethin’?”

“Oh, worse.” She placed her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her hands as she fell back into their normal Saturday rhythm. “She had a rotator cuff repair two weeks ago, right? … You, um, know what that is?”

“uh, that’s a ligament, isn’it,” Sans replied, looking uncertain. “... yeah, no, ’m not familiar.”

“-Yeah, that’s fine. I thought that might be, considering your, uh, physical makeup.”

He smirked. “i’d say i’m all _skin and bones_ , but i don’t even got the _first_ part.”

Caught completely off her game by the pun, Tabitha snorted into her fists. “Oh God, no fair!”

“heh, sorry doll. can’t help it.” His sly wink gave lie to that statement. “anyways, sorry for interruptin’ ya, keep goin’.”

“Okay, how about this, you’re allowed to make puns if I’m not _just_ catching my breath from heavy stuff,” Tabitha requested, though the wide grin on her face gave lie to that statement as well.

Another wink from Sans. “i’d say it’s a promise, but that’s tough when you’re born with it ‘n your _bones_ like i am.”

“-Oh my God.” She shook her head, laughing, but continued her story, as Sans had urged her to. “Okay, so the rotator cuff is actually a tendon, or more correctly a related group of tendons, located in the shoulder, acting as the cushioning and the attachment point between the ball of the humerus and the scapula,” she began, pointing to the corresponding region in her shoulder in a live demonstration.

She noticed Sans' own hand subconsciously stray to his own shoulder in a mirror of her actions. “... huh, alright.”

Bending her elbow ninety degrees so as to fit within the booth still, she raised her upper arm horizontally, moving her arm from the point of her shoulder, rotating it in a circle. “It’s what allows all of the various muscles in that region of the body to work together, diverse as they are, to give the arm the full range of motion it has. In the human body, anyway.”

_Sans couldn’t help but recall from the fluidity of her motion how natural she was at dancing_.

He forced his eyes to remain on her face as she continued her explanation. “Of course, something with so many moving parts can be pretty seriously affected by even tiny freak accidents.” She lowered her arm halfway: “The biggest sign people tend to have of a tear in their rotator cuff, is that they suddenly can’t raise or move their arm as high as they normally can. And that’s irrespective of pain.” She finally rested her arm back at her side completely. “Like, they literally _cannot raise their arm_. It just stops.”

Sans visibly winced. “ooof. that sounds pretty serious.”

“Yeah, in those cases it pretty much results in surgery to ‘repair’ it. And then they come to PT for post-op rehab.” She was leaning onto the table again. “So this woman, right? Had the procedure, and had the hospital-provided OT person doing house visits for the first two days. So I already know from her last care provider, right?, that she was pushing herself too-hard-too-early. Therapist comes on the first day, has her move it a _little_ ; she takes the brace off and starts trying to move and lift weight _normally_.”

The skeleton was stupefied. “-uh, ya have _surgery_ , and they want ya t’ start movin’ it _right away?_ ”

“Oh yeah, with big repairs like that you don’t ever want to let it sit for too long. Muscles atrophy. It just causes even bigger problems.” She smiled wisely. “Gotta start gentle at first, obviously, but you can’t ever totally immobilize if you want to achieve the same range and strength as before surgery. The goal of rehab is to start small, _really_ minimal, and _then_ increase back to your old level with time.”

The shocked look on his face dissipated, and his eyelights returned. “... guess that makes sense.”

“Yeah. So, first day I see this lady now that she’s been referred to outpatient care, and I ask her about what I’m seeing in the notes on her file. And you know what she tells me?” Her hands still clasped, those lower to the table so she can move forward, a knowing gleam in her eye. “ _‘I’ve got three kids, 2, 5, and 8, and my husband’s a banker, how am I supposed to take care of them_ and _the house?!’_ ”

She was pleased to see Sans’ eyelights fade out again; she’d long learned to associate the sign with stronger reactions on his part, surprise in particular. “... So, yeah, I mean, I feel for her, I really do, but, like, in that situation you _have_ to find a way to rest the arm, because if you don’t you’ll _never_ be able to take care of kids or house normally again.”

“... jeez, that’s rough ‘s hell,” the skeleton commented, the faintest pips of white reappearing in his sockets. “... rock an’ a hard place, but the consequences for that ‘re _really_ long-term, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty much the difference between doing a full-stop for a relatively short time, or doing a partial-stop _forever_.” Her hands came back to her jaw. “Like, yeah, it’s hard, but you _have to find a way,_ for those first two weeks at least. Like, reward your older kid for helping with their younger siblings, or reach out to your family and friends. Hell, where is her _husband_ in all of this?! At that point he should be-”

She seemed to realize where her own conversation was headed, and she came to a screeching halt, suddenly hugging herself again and looking away.

Not that Sans wasn’t uncomfortable with the situation either – the first of her suggestions, in particular, had struck a rather sensitive note. But he shook it off. He _had_ to. _Control, control._ Besides, he had the sinking feeling that the _last_ of her suggestions had caused her to accidentally set her own fears off.

“... heh. yeah. if th’ guy’s a damn banker, it’s not like they probably couldn’t _hire_ somebody.” He kept his voice airy, and arranged his face into a sarcastic grin. “sounds like you ‘n me both have a problem with _that_ type’a people at the moment, huh?”

“... Heheh, yeah.” His jovial attitude seemed to lead her out of the dark place she had walked herself into, and she loosened her arms, returning her hands to her lap. “Like, of all things, these people have solutions to their problems at their fingertips, and they’re kind of just wasting it by being stubborn about their own screwed-up agendas.” She shook her head sadly. “... So yeah, I fully expect her to re-injure herself and never have full use of her arm again.”

Sans wiped away the dopey, lovelorn smile that had been developing on his skull without his consent ( _man, that was a philosophy he could get behind..._ ), re-focusing on Tabitha with something more akin to understanding and validation. “... yeah. that’s too bad for her. i agree with ya, though, in general it doesn’t pay t’ be so _hard-headed._ in life, it’s best t’ stay...” he trailed off, aiming a hearty wink in her direction. “... _flexible_.”

“... _Oh my God,_ two in a row, you are the _worst_ ,” she choked out between fits of laughter that she was trying and failing to filter and muffle through her open fingers.

His self-satisfied smirk only grew. “heh, ya seem surprised by it. ‘s not the first double pun i’ve shared with ya, y’know.”

“I _know_ , it’s just- !” Tabitha’s head flew forward as she continued to let out deep belly-laughs, narrowly missing smashing her temples on the table’s surface.

“heheh, hey, careful doll, i think your friend’s gonna have my _skull_ if ya get a concussion on my watch,” Sans cautioned her, his voice nonetheless still full of mirth.

“ _-Oh my God, Robyn!_ ” Tabitha frantically fished her phone out of her pocket. “... _Shit_ , I hope I didn’t scare her,” she lamented as she typed as quickly as she could manage.

Sans waited for her to finish sending her text before asking anything else. “... she lookin’ out for ya tonight, too?”

“... Yeah. She is.” Her phone back in her sweater, Tabitha strove to reel her breath in again.

“... i’m glad.” He leaned onto his own elbows, grin honest, soft, and welcoming. “... it’s good t’ have someone who really cares about ya.”

Tabitha blushed, comforted by his confidence in her friend’s involvement. _He wasn’t trying to isolate her... maybe he was alright after all._ “... Yeah. It really is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Dating Start!_
> 
> ONSCREEN PAPYRUS ALERT WEEWOO WEEWOO WEEWOO
> 
> -oops, this one got a little long, but hey, that just means yall get more cute first not-super-official date shiznit in a whole ‘nother chapter!! :3
> 
> … this sense of overkill is a little familiar, isn’t it...?  
> #NYEH
> 
> ***MAGIC DOUBLE UPDATE MERRY HOLIDAY~***  
> \- go check out ch. 10!!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He noticed the color of the sky outside the windows. “-oop, it’s almost sunset already, we’d probably, uh, better get goin’, if ya still wanna take that walk.”
> 
> Tabitha’s eyes widened slightly and her mouth went slack as she realized. Sans had observed her expression. “-hey, it’s alright, we don’t gotta do it, remember?”
> 
> _-She had to try. At least for Robyn, for_ this _, she should._ Tabitha stared at the table briefly in thought. “... You, um, had a spot in mind, right? How far is it?”

“what kind’a ‘crappy tv’ do ya watch, anyway?” Sans asked.

“A lot,” Tabitha answered. “I end up mostly following sitcoms. But no medical or crime dramas, except ‘Scrubs’ reruns. ‘Scrubs’ is good enough to be an exception.”

Dinner had come and gone, and Sans was lazily finishing off the last of his ketchup-with-a-side-of-fries while Tabitha, empty plate long bussed away, took occasional sips from her wine glass. Sans was pleased to observe her gradually loosen up as the night wore on, seemingly put at ease by his non-pressuring actions and demeanor. _Good. If he could control himself, play his cards right, then she stood a chance to be okay with all of this._

She continued, “But I’ll also watch cooking shows, and nature or science stuff, but no history, not unless it’s culture or the arts. It sort of depends on what’s on at the time. I tend to watch later at night, so that’s when all the sitcoms are running.”

Sans considered this information carefully, munching down more of his fries as he did. “... huh. other than... ‘scrubs’, was it?, anythin’ else ya recommend?”

“Hm... I like ‘Community’ and ‘Superstore’, and ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’ is pretty great. A lot of people like ‘Big Bang Theory’, and I think it’s alright, but it rubs me the wrong way sometimes. Uh...” she seemed perplexed, lost in thought. “... I dunno, what’s your taste in shows like? I could probably recommend more stuff...”

“heh, i’m pretty open t’ suggestions. still got a _lot_ t’ learn about television on the surface, so i’ll take any pointers ya got. ya heard of mettaton?”

Tabitha needed a moment of recall before answering. “... Yeah, I think so?”

“yeah, he was literally _all we had_ for entertainment back underground, aside from anything you could do ‘live-and-in-person’.” Sans shook his head, chuckling. He proceeded to describe at length to Tabitha about the excessive number of programs the nonetheless-talented robot broadcasted, the variety-show nature of it despite its inherent pink-themed sameness, the sheer ridiculousness of the robot’s oversized personality, and, even _without_ having to pepper in jokes and puns here and there, he was encouraged by how readily he had her laughing.

“heheheh, so, yeah, y’know, literally _anything_ on tap up here i’m good t’ at least check out. there’s a lot more t’ offer up here, even a year later it’s all pretty fascinating to me, y’know?” he finished. … _Just that, well, at some point even TV wasn’t ample enough distraction from loneliness._

Tabitha giggled modestly behind one palm, and Sans couldn’t help but be drawn to the cute gesture, finding himself yet again having to force down the heat rising to his zygomatic arches. When Tabitha withdrew her hand and looked up at him again, she still wore a wide grin. “... So, what else have you come to like about the Surface since you got here?”

-And once again, he had to disguise his internally screaming at himself – _dont say ‘her’, dont say ‘her’,_ – but he responded nonetheless. “well, heh, i knew about cars from all the stuff that fell down t’ the dump, so i was familiar enough that it came naturally. just needed a bit of certification t’ get th’ actual job after that. somethin’ about toolin’ around under a hood ’s oddly peaceful, for me.” _There, a long-awaited answer to her questions about his background that wasn’t a total lie, even though she’d been nice enough not to ask since._ “... though one thing i _don’t_ get is you humans’ gross fascination with sports. i mean, we _did_ have sports underground an’ even teams an’ stuff, but you guys seem t’ take it to an excessive level. like, the merchandizing and trinkets an’ shit that gets sold around it is _insane_.”

She replied with a mighty chuckle. “I know, right? Sports and especially certain fans are pretty crazy.” Tabitha drained the last of her wine. “... It’s the one thing I mildly regret about my field, is that, we get a lot of sports injuries that come through, and that means a lot of people who talk about sports, or think we know what they mean.”

Sans’ own grin went just the wrong side of impish. He raised his own empty wine glass, in jest. “well, even so, i find your commitment to helpin’ others anyway t’ be pretty comm- _mandible_ , heh!”

“-Will you _stop?!_ ”

“heh, lies, every time i’ve _hammed_ it up before, you’ve ham- _ate_ it up.”

True enough, seeing as Tabitha’s smile was now even bigger, only outmatched the sonorous pealing that rolled from her throat. “-Oh my God, a specific carpal. And another double. _And_ extra wordplay. Are you _sure_ you weren’t an English teacher in a past life?”

Sans was just more than slightly proud of himself. “heh, nah, though i _did_ do stand-up on th’ side, back underground.” Now that their wine and food had been finished, he took a glance over his shoulder – and he immediately noticed the color of the sky outside the windows. “-oop, it’s almost sunset already, we’d probably, uh, better get goin’, if ya still wanna take that walk.”

Peeking out from the booth herself, Tabitha realized how much time had passed, as well. Her eyes widened slightly and her mouth went slack as she watched.

Sans had observed her expression, and he leapt to smooth things over: “-hey, it’s alright, we don’t gotta do it, remember? it’s all up to you. if ya changed your mind ‘cause we spent too long here, it’s not a problem. tonight’s pretty flexible, doll.”

- _She had to try. At least for Robyn, for_ this _, she should._ Tabitha stared at the table briefly in thought. “... You, um, had a spot in mind, right? How far is it?”

“-couple blocks at most.” Sans let her have the space to mull it over for a second. “... ’s got a place t’ sit, if you’d like. but, again, up t’ you.”

“... So, like, five minutes one-way.” _The sun wasn’t low enough just yet that a fifteen-minute walk would leave her in the dark with this guy._ She exhaled, and smiled at him. “Sure. I gotta settle up, and I should probably hit the bathroom, but yeah, we can still go.”

“heh, alright. ya go ahead, i’ll get them t’ bring our checks, save some time.”

“Good call.” She nabbed her purse as she slid off of the bench seat. “See you in a minute.”

Before she turned around, she caught the dreamy way his eye sockets hooded themselves when he nodded and beamed back. “sure thing.”

She trailed off to the restroom blushing.

* * *

Sans held the door open for Tabitha when they left the bar, and she waited for him to leave the doorway himself to be able to tell which way he would go, following him when he turned right.

She pulled up to his side, not touching him but close enough to be obvious that she was his walking companion, and she saw his eyelights shrink to pinpricks. “... heh, uh, i guess i didn’t realize we’re, uh, exactly th’ same height,” he commented, the hand that didn’t have his blue hoodie draped over it reaching up to rub at the back of his head self-consciously.

At her giggle, he seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly brought his hand back down, and, still chuckling, she spit out, “No, no, it’s not a problem! Height’s not something I ca-...”

Now seeing the bright blue flush on his cheekbones, she shut up fast, and the two continued their walk in silence for a few awkward moments.

“... Um... thank you for letting me get my own bill,” she told him honestly. Though she wanted something to break that silence, she really did want to show her gratitude, too.

For his part, her words finally ripped him from his spiraling thoughts of at first _attraction_ ( _oh stars, she was actually his height and not taller, he could kiss her without being on tiptoe_ ) that had then careened into self-depreciating sarcasm ( _good job you idiot, you lost your grip for_ two fucking seconds _and she saw you blushing, what’s she gonna think-_ ), and tore him back into the present, if only to rush to comfort her. “-hey, uh, no problem doll. you ask, i’ll do it.” He brushed off all traces of his prior train of thought by casting another reassuring wink at her.

Tabitha wavered, unsure whether she should continue further as she kept walking next to him. He was being so accommodating through all this – the thought of mentioning it was eminently uncomfortable, but _maybe she owed him an explanation_ –

As if he’d read her thoughts, he shook his head. “no need, doll. it’s alright. ya don’t gotta share a single thing with me. not unless ya want to. no obligation for it, though. ‘kay?”

… He seemed perfectly content to continue their stroll without her defending herself any longer, so she was equally content to not press the issue.

It was Sans who began the next topic of conversation: “... so, uh... i did wanna ask one thing – and, again, ya don’t gotta answer, but... uh, heh, i just hope it’s okay that i’m textin’ ya.”

Tabitha’s insides may have squirmed a bit, but to her immense credit, she entertained the question. “... I, uh, might not reply. Not. Um. Well, I mean, if it’s to confirm plans, but...”

He saw the way her eyes flitted about nervously, and near-instantly understood where it came from. “-that’s okay. i’ll chill out for ya, if ya want. just wanted t’ figure out how much space ya like. alright?”

She hurriedly corrected, “No, _no,_ it’s okay, it’s – like, if you can’t make it or something, please let me know, but, uh...”

“... alright. plans stuff only, got it.” He had his hands in his jean pockets as he stepped along, hoodie still slung over one wrist. “just want ya t’ be comfortable.”

“... Mm. Thanks.” She gazed at the quaking trees across the way, the young ones that had been planted by the city just before the small, scrubby parcels and empty lots on the other side of the street turned into a block of buildings instead. “Um, huh, it’s getting kinda nippy...”

Indeed, the closing-in cover of night was giving the breeze that had already been present earlier an extra edge of iciness. Sans looked at her, concerned. “... ya gettin’ cold? we can bail if ya need to.”

“No, I’m good.” Tabitha drew her sweater closer to herself and kept walking. _She promised Robyn she’d try, and it was still light enough out._ She didn’t have reason to quit yet.

So she sought to distract herself with the surroundings. Looking at the businesses they were passing by, popping up in tighter and tighter clusters, she noticed how many of them were rather... artistic, in nature. There seemed to be a higher concentration of monsters among the people they passed on the sidewalk, as well. “Um, I guess a lot of you guys landed here, then?” she ventured.

“... eh, kinda.” His usual carefree demeanor was back in full force as he kept leading the way. “it was a bit of ‘n abandoned-factory part of th’ city, but when we got here an’ needed places to live and work, we, heh, got first crack at this neighborhood, per city council. … a lotta people did open up shop in other parts of town, or go live elsewhere if they had the means t’ get ‘n apartment before this place was finished, but given that a lotta monsters were involved with the construction here, a lot of them did settle here. point of pride, y’know, since they had a hand ‘n it.”

“... You, uh, don’t live nearby, do you?” Tabitha asked, somewhat anxious now.

“who, me? nah, my bro was one’a the first past the gate t’ open his own business once we got here, heh.” He slung his hoodie, which had almost slipped out of the loop of his arm, over his opposite shoulder. “too eager t’ do otherwise. he kinda insisted we be some of the first t’ surface for that very reason.” He laughed. “nah, he’s got a studio on the corner of elm an’ eleventh. our apartment’s a few blocks from that.”

_Phew, that was the other side of the city from here, and in a neighborhood still reasonably distant from hers besides._ She exhaled and began to pay attention to the architectural style of the place – some steel and concrete, but much of it was comprised of refurbished and repaired brick buildings, in line with both the news she’d heard a year ago and what Sans was telling her now. “... It looks really nice.”

“yeah, the people involved worked real hard on it.” Sans was glancing at the buildings, too. “y’know, finally, a place to stretch their legs and _breathe_ , they’re gonna have the self-respect t’ make it stand strong _and_ look good.”

Tabitha couldn’t help but smile at the growing, bustling block, at the neighbors chatting with each other and the monster families towing children along. It was so vibrant, yet so peaceful.

“So why did Grillby put his bar on the _edge_ of the action, instead of the middle of it?” she found herself asking him.

“heh, just couldn’t picture himself anywhere other ‘n on the outer bound of things.” He kept turning his gaze this way and that, and Tabitha wondered if he was searching for something in particular. “i mean, he’d always been in snowdin, for all that it’s the boonies ‘n stuff. guess he’s just most comfortable in that environment.”

“... Can’t fault him for that. People tend to gravitate towards stuff that’s at least a _little_ familiar.” She folded her arms together, feeling the wind much more strongly now.

Sans noticed. “... ya _sure_ you’re not too cold? we can always turn ‘round, it’s no problem.”

“-Nah.” She was still beaming at the scenery around them as they walked. “... I admit I might have asked to earlier, but I like it here. I, uh, kinda wanna keep going.”

“... heh, okay.” His hand strayed up to where his hoodie hung across his shoulder still. “... uh, ya wanna, uh, borrow my jacket...?”

… Silence.

… _shit fuck why did you say that out loud you starsdamned idiot, that’s too much too soon she’s gonna_ -

“Um, y-you don’t have to offer,” Tabitha replied, peering up at him shyly, guiltily.

- _keep it together don’t let those cute faces sway you you dumbass don’t push it don’t push_ -

“-nah, i don’t get cold, remember?” he grinned, giving her a sly look. “‘m made of bones, y’know, the wind just goes right _through me_.”

“... _No!_ ”

“hahahah, what?, it’s the truth!”

Tabitha was nearly doubled over as she walked, arms still interlaced but now closer to her stomach than her chest as she laughed deeply. “ _Oh my God,_ you really are the worst!”

He had to beg to differ, seeing how she reacted the way she did, but he spoke nothing of it, instead returning her laughter as they kept moving along the sidewalk.

Half a minute later, it subsided, and he observed how, in the absence of mirth, her teeth were beginning to chatter slightly. “... here, ‘t least let me put it on your shoulders, alright?”

She felt the thick fabric being draped across her back, and she checked to see that blue hoodie she’d always seen him wearing, now on her instead. She seemed to freeze up at its presence, and Sans was immediately afraid he’d gone too far. “... uh!, i mean!, if it’s too much i’ll take it back, but you were, uh, shiverin’, and...”

“... It helps.” She pulled the lapels of the jacket towards her middle, grabbing past the zipper on either side. “... Thank you.”

… She _was_ not shaking any longer. He felt the warmth rushing to his face again, and smiled softly. “... sure thing, doll.”

Tabitha couldn’t help the hot rise that surfaced in her cheeks, as well. She consciously put more effort into bringing the hoodie that she’d been about to refuse tighter around herself instead, feeling far too vulnerable at the moment. _Its weight felt safe._

Thankfully, Sans had seemed to peel his attention off of her, now staring straight ahead. “okay, there it is. lil’ square up there, s’got a place t’ sit for a moment.”

_Sitting wouldn’t be a bad idea._ Tabitha kept walking next to Sans as he approached the space.

Once they got there, the orange streaks across the sky beginning to transition into deep ocean blues, Tabitha could only blink in awe. The square was situated at the point of an intersection where a street bisected the main road at a sharp slant, and the resulting acute-angled corner was transformed into a small green space. Low bushes and plantings surrounded the center in a generously-spaced circle, and in the middle was a petite fountain – nothing impressively sized, no bigger than a large birdbath maybe, but the statue was of keen interest: a stone figure, horned and cloaked, seated with crossed legs, a copper umbrella protruding above it to protect it from the elements. The water was released from the pin at the top of the umbrella, not pushed into the air very high, but still more than enough to produce a lovely trickling sound when it cascaded down the curve of the canopy to hit the basin below. Strung in the four compass directions from the top of the umbrella were strands of tiny white lights.

Sans headed to one of the benches surrounding the miniature fountain, facing outward from it, and patted next to him to indicate that she should sit. She took her time to join him, taking in the view that, despite its modesty, was really quite beautiful.

“This is gorgeous,” she said aloud as she finally took the place he’d saved for her.

“no kiddin’,” he agreed, making sure to sit next to her but not too close either. _Careful, careful_. “it’s a replica, of sorts. there’s a statue like that back ‘n waterfall. – ‘nother region underground,” he supplied helpfully. “the original’s a lot bigger, but, well, ya can hear the river and the water all the time ‘n waterfall, so, guess this was a way for waterfall folks t’ still have a lil’ piece of home around.”

If the tiny homemade rock piles spaced unevenly along the outer edge of the raised basin were any indication, surely this place was well-loved and appreciated indeed. “... Yeah. Makes sense.”

She was perfectly content to take in the wonderful sound of the fountain, but another noise pierced the urban air – a high-pitched jingling, which grew closer with each passing second. “... oh man, nice cream. uh...”

Sure enough, down the side street was traveling a tall blue bunny monster, a cute cowlick at his forehead, pushing before him a metal freezer-slash-handcart with an attached bell that rung with every step he took. “- _Nice Cream!_ ” he yelled out every so often.

Seeing the way Tabitha was watching the vendor with interest, Sans appeared guilty. “... uh, heh. well, uh, _nice_ coincidence, i guess?”

Her gaze was still fixated on the cart. “Is it any good?”

He was surprised by the question, but he went with it. “... yeah, good stuff. i remember gettin’ it all the time, as a kid. … uh, aren’t ya cold, though?”

“-It is _never too cold_ for ice cream,” Tabitha promptly cut him off, and just as quickly she was standing and approaching the vendor.

Sans held back a chuckle as he got up himself. She was already speaking to the bunny when he arrived there, but she turned back to Sans and hounded him, “What do _you_ recommend?”

“... y’know what,” he finally verbalized, hand resting again on the back of his skull nervously, “best t’ stick with the classics, to start.”

“One Nice Cream each, then?” the bunny clarified, and at Tabitha’s nod he began to fetch the requested treats from his cooler. She had already gotten the cash out to pay for hers, which Sans had foreseen given how dinner had gone earlier, and he had finished fishing out his own payment by the time Tabitha was heading back to their bench.

As the bunny handed Sans his Nice Cream, he squinted carefully. “... Well, stars dazzle me! Sans, is that _you_?”

“heh, yup, ‘s me,” the skeleton returned, voice low and unsure. He took the Nice Cream in his phalanges, eager to follow Tabitha.

“Well, don’t _you_ look swell! I don’t recall you ever dressing this nicely! What’s the occasion?”

“wouldn’t you like t’ know,” he deadpanned, glancing over his shoulder. Tabitha was snaking her head around from the other side of the fountain, clearly having expected him to be right behind her and now puzzled that he hadn’t been. “-i gotta get back t’ my friend, but hey, have a good night, alright?”

“... Ah, _friend_ ,” the bunny snickered, before snapping back into his family-friendly persona. “I will do my best! You as well, Sans! Say ‘hi’ to your brother for me!”

“-yup,” Sans grated out as the bunny continued on his merry way, then power-walking back to the bench he and Tabitha had been sharing earlier. Tabitha, placated by his being en route, had begun to unwrap her own packet, though she politely waited to actually bite into it.

She smiled all too smugly as he finally made it over. “What, did he remember you from when you were kids or something?”

“eh, somethin’ like that. … ha, ha, laugh it up,” he smirked back at her when she snorted into her palm.

She shook her head. “No, it’s pretty sweet actually! If I’d known you knew each other, I’d have stopped to chat... Sorry I came right back...”

“nah, ’s all good doll,” he assured her, because he was _less than willing to be ragged on for dressing up for a date_. “... so, didja read the wrapper?”

“... ‘Read’? Something’s on it?” Tabitha murmured, turning the wrapper over.

“yeah, should be on th’ back.” He’d already torn open his own, on the non-marked side, lifting the treat to sample before checking his message. “... ‘you’re super spiffy’. … _damn bunny did that on purpose._ ”

“Haha! Well it’s true, you look-” - _nope, she was going to stuff that thought and that traitor burst of air right back down into her lungs, that should not have gotten out at all._ She stuffed the end of her own Nice Cream bar into her own mouth, praying that the taste would be good enough to chase away her utter embarrassment.

“eheh, uh, yeah, s’why they call it ‘nice cream’, has a nice message on it.” Sans looked away, determined not to let her see him blushing yet again. He scrambled for further diversion. “... so, uh, what’s yours say?”

Tabitha’s eyes were locked on her own wrapper, where the words “Is this as sweet as you?” were printed clearly. She nonetheless lied: “... Huh, I, um, got the same thing.” Changing the subject before she could be found out, she aimed for honesty to offset it: “... You were right, this _is_ really good.”

It was too late, Sans had seen what her wrapper actually said, but he chose to ignore it. “... heh, it is... but _somethin’_ tells me you’re an ice cream sort’a person anyways,” he teased her, taking a bite.

“-You can’t get me on that because there’s no shame in it.” She chomped another sizable chunk out of her bar. “If I were allowed to make _one_ law, no questions asked, I would mandate ice cream parlors or at least a store selling ice cream as one of its things be located every hundred yards.”

“... an’ would ya _scream_ if they weren’t?” he pestered her, smirk once again out to play.

She glared back at him, although her eyes shone with merriment. “You quit it with those puns, mister, and _yes,_ I _would_ ,” she told him. “You see if I don’t.”

“ya _wound_ me,” he tossed back dramatically, holding the back of his hand to his brow where it was covered by his baseball cap. “not likin’ my puns – how could ya be so _cold_?”

“- _I will throw this at you._ ”

“-no ya won’t, because it’s ice cream an’ ya have a liking for the stuff enough not t’ waste it,” he answered gleefully.

She rolled her eyes. “Shit, I’ve been _found_.” She finished chewing another bite before sticking her tongue out at him. “Don’t you dare tell.”

He considered reciprocating the gesture, but conceded that the discovery of his being able to manifest a tongue magically – nevermind it being blue and luminous – was something she probably wasn’t ready for. _Waaaay too forward._ “heh, ‘s good, doll. your secret’s safe with me.”

“... Seriously, though, don’t, like, go buying me a bunch of ice cream all of a sudden.” She was a lot more solemn this time. “I may not have a sedentary desk job, but it’s still not really healthy.”

“don’t abuse it, gotcha.” Another friendly wink. “-guess i’ll hafta _chill out_ on my big plans then, can’t _milk_ ‘em ‘s much as i wanted.”

The joke made her uneasy, but she carefully kept straight-faced, passing it off with a (sourly-delivered) joke of her own. “... Don’t get a big head over your pun streak, now.”

“couldn’t if i wanted to,” he told her, a little more stoic in light of her tone _which he’d caught onto anyway, of course he had, he could tell she was trying to hide it but the minuscule jerk of her facial muscles gave it away even before the sharp sting of_ pain reminiscence fear _he accidentally mirrored off of her did_ , but with a wry twinkling left over in his socket still. “dunno if ya noticed doll, but it’s kinda hard for skulls t’ change size.”

“... _Pffffffff_ hahahahaha!” It was a good thing she’d already swallowed her current bite, because she would surely have choked on the Nice Cream the way she was choking on her laughter now.

Sans grinned back at her, sounding out a few chuckles of his own. Thank goodness he’d been able to recover things from whatever-that-was back there, and she was right back to her former lighthearted self. _Stars, this date was going well_.

… _Maybe it was going_ too _well._

… _Dare he chance...?_

… Well, he’d never know if he didn’t try. “so, uh, i was thinkin’, much ‘s i enjoy our saturdays, maybe we oughta do somethin’, uh, _different_ , if you’re up for it. doesn’t matter the day, just thinkin’ maybe we could, uh, meet someplace else?”

“... Like where?” Tabitha asked, brows furrowed. “What’s wrong with Grillby’s?”

“-nothin’!, nothin’ at all, ’s just...” He ground his teeth while parsing how to say his next bit. “... i mean, it’s totally up t’ you of course, but i figured you’d appreciate the opportunity t’ be in more... _neutral_ territory, maybe?”

-With a startle, Tabitha realized that _Grillby’s was not neutral or safe,_ that her presumption of the bar being like any other public location where she could shout for help wasn’t so solid since it was _Sans’ home turf_ and the owner and staff were his _friends_ and they might look the other way or enable him-

“-doll? tabitha? you okay?” Sans’ calm voice urged her, bringing her down from her panic. “... we don’t have to do _anythin’_ or go anywhere ya don’t wanna go. promise.”

Trying not to shiver from her fears (the cold was no longer an issue, although the fact that she was _wearing this guy’s jacket_ might now be), she quickly answered, “-No, no, w-we can go somewhere else.” In a way, she supposed that his being on so-called good behavior even while there was a positive sign, although her ability to trust was certainly being called into question again. “... Um, what did you have in mind?”

“well, uh, anything ya like doin’?”

“Um... well, you know I don’t do much in my spare time, so, um... you can pick,” she offered. _Seeing what he would suggest would give her a view into his intentions_.

“... hm, alright. … … well, speakin’ of ‘ _spare_ time’, y’wanna try bowling? it’s right up my _alley_.”

“... Just how many doubles have you cranked out tonight?!”

“enough,” he returned proudly, relishing the quiet wheezes she was making. He munched down the last of his Nice Cream, chortling, while she recovered.

… She looked _way_ too cute, grinning like that while wearing his hoodie.

… _don’t think about that you fuck shut up stop that right now_

“-I’m gonna start counting one of these days,” she threatened, still giggling. The wrapper to her long-finished Nice Cream was crumpled up in her hand during the bout of anxiety she’d just been yanked from by his humor.

“ _cool_ , i can finally get ‘n accurate assessment,” he jested, before getting a little more serious again. “so, uh... ya up for it, though? bowlin’?”

She thought for a moment. The one place she knew of in the city proper (the other was in the suburbs, a substantial ride out) had good lighting, and staff members always on their feet making rounds. _Safe._ “... Sure, let’s do it. This coming week, or...?”

“well, we can talk that over while we’re headin’ back to grillby’s.” He motioned upwards towards the sky, which was now in its dark-blue twilight phase as the streetlamps were gradually turning on. “it’s gettin’ a lil’ dark, and i know ya gotta head home.”

“... Yeah.” _Considerate_. She sent a text to Robyn to be picked up as she stood up, pulling his jacket close around her after she’d snuck her phone back into her pocket. She smiled at him after he’d stood, as well. “I’d love to talk it over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***MAGIC DOUBLE UPDATE MERRY HOLIDAY~***
> 
> … i wonder sometimes if it’s realistic to portray Sans this gentlemanly, but then i remember that it’s Dancetale Sans and he’s got control issueses and he _wants this to go so fucking right dammit_
> 
> _-sassy sassy Nice Cream man,  
>  with one cool word he’ll foil your plans_
> 
> it only makes sense to me that the monsters who came aboveground would take pride in their new home but also sprinkle a bunch of artistic reminders here and there so they don’t get too homesick :’3 hence the fountain, i hope i did the statue/umbrella detail from the game justice.
> 
> disclaimer, Tabitha does not necessarily share my taste in television. except for Scrubs. that’s the shit
> 
> SEE YOU NYEH-XT WEEK! :p  
>  _(legit tho, Paps would probably yell at me for turning his catchphrase into a pun)_


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She couldn’t decide whether or not the banter that she had begun sharing with him was welcome; or if it was _un_ welcome, given how it may make it more difficult to take note of any red flags she might spot.
> 
> It felt too good to be true; like the other shoe was going to drop at any moment. But Robyn was right: only time could prove that, and the only way to let time work its magic was to keep being around him.

_Grillby’s, mid-week._

Sans sat at the bar yet again, drinking a fruit-infused lemonade – something the bar had started making by the pitcher, now that it was summer proper – _real_ lemonade, not the artificial powdered stuff!, and this week’s infusion was strawberry-watermelon, a good pick, in his opinion. He needed to sip at _something_ while he mulled his thoughts over, and this was his best option at the moment, due to it being a) non-alcoholic (other patrons could order it spiked with their booze of choice – he simply chose not to) and b) _not_ a ‘nojito or cola.

His friend was busy behind the counter as usual, but he’d promised to stop by and chat once things had slowed down, and so Sans waited patiently. Grillby had been reviewing everything with him, giving him great advice and bringing up ideas that he hadn’t even considered; but it was Sans who’d had all of the observations and, therefore, held all of the points of evidence. He could do some of his own parsing and sorting until Grillby was available, speed things up a bit.

Repeating the past two weeks over and over in his head, he was pretty sure he’d done everything right so far. He was letting her make the final decisions on things – even checking in with her, to make sure she wasn’t deferring out of anxiety – and anything she did ask him to do out of the norm, he went along with happily. Grillby had also quite rightly mentioned that he should be extremely careful to never take her someplace that wasn’t public, to never have it just be the two of them alone – and he had adhered to that so far, too.

He was still a little perplexed by how authentically panicked she’d gotten when he’d offered to buy dinner this week. When he’d brought it up with Grillby, the fire-monster had gone quiet for a moment, then stipulated some sort of financial abuse. It was a rarer possibility, but it _did_ make sense.

Then again, Sans supposed that the _why_ didn’t matter. As long as he did whatever she asked, right?

… But if he could avoid her descending into _actual_ panic, as she almost had a few times...

He shook his head. It was better for her to be able to tell him anything on her own schedule. That would put her more in the driver’s seat, help her feel the most comfortable. Even if it meant he _didn’t_ have warning beforehand on what could elicit a potential panic attack from her.

Until she gave him the clues he’d need, he’d have to wing it as best he could.

His forehead hit the bar counter, frustrated. _He couldn’t have advance knowledge on how to help_. Sans certainly was an adaptable guy in general, but something like this was far too important for him to normally leave to chance. And yet, _in this case_ , he _had_ to.

It ate at him.

After so long of not having say or command over _anything_ about his life, after being tossed this way and that through the proverbial currents without any means of knowing how it would all ultimately turn out and losing _so much_ in the process, Sans had gotten used to managing the aftermath by keeping a tight grip on everything, by oh-so-carefully controlling each little aspect of his life that he could, and ~~pretending~~ choosing not to care about the rest. From his job that kept him busy and away from music and labs, to his habits that kept him at a distance from the kid and from his well-intentioned-but-overbearing brother, to the way he danced around conversations so as to avoid talking about anything he didn’t want to discuss – he planned out and orchestrated as much as possible. With all the lack of surety the past had dealt him, the sense of safety he derived from his methods now had been the one balm he could reap from it all, now that they were on the Surface.

His having to trust in the opposite here was making his nerves run wild.

Speaking of nerves... there was another thing troubling him about this: he _knew_ Tabitha could dance, and _well_ , and _liked_ to. Every non-idiotic human he’d met was savvy enough to know that dancing was a crucial part of monster culture, even if they didn’t know the wherefores or the intricacies or every single facet of it. And he knew well, by now, that Tabitha was not some vapid idiot – he’d have lost interest if she was.

_So why hadn’t she said anything?_

… She had to have a good reason. Just like she had good reason for not sharing any of the other things about herself with him. … Right?

Well, given the givens, he was fine with this one. The more of a hold he had on everything that had gone wrong with his SOUL, on the _utterly unbelievable_ details of how and why, the more secure he felt. The less he had to share aloud, the better.

And she seemed perfectly content to not mention her dancing, so he was equally content to not mention it himself.

… Now if only he could help prevent her nervousness on the rest of it. He so _desperately_ wanted her to feel at ease and safe around him. He could for sure help talk her through any attacks that came up, and of course it wasn’t really possible to predict an anxiety attack with a hundred percent accuracy – _and boy howdy, did he know that all too well –_ but if he could _just know what might trigger them_ so he could avoid doing anything to upset her...

… He felt like a ship lost at sea, facing down a distant, rumbling storm, helpless to stop or steer around it, all while the heady air pressure climbed higher and higher around him.

He had to take a few deep breaths himself. _Nothing he could do about it at this moment in time. Pointless to worry when worrying won’t solve the problem._ Sans well couldn’t let _himself_ panic over this. Not when he needed to be the strong and calm one.

Sans took one last, long exhale to still his mind. _He was already doing everything as right as he could_. Grillby had already praised his suggestion for their next outing, noting that bowling hit all the marks of being public, neutral, and low-key. And he’d continue to keep a careful watch on her the whole time, to make sure she was okay, and judge if they needed to change tracks.

He could only work with what he knew. And by the stars, he _would_. _He’d make this work_.

* * *

Tabitha declined Robyn’s offer to drive her today, considering that they weren’t going to be doing any drinking on this particular excursion. There was a burrito place up the street that they could walk to, so dinner was taken care of, as well. And at some point, she reasoned, she’d have to be able to do this on her own. She’d still call Robyn when it was over, after Robyn got out of work.

Their work schedules best aligned for free time on Sunday afternoon, so Tabitha had decided to replace her Sunday run with this instead, this week. Hey, it was exercise, right? Besides, she’d already done everything else she needed to today, save for dusting and changing sheets. She’d vacuumed last night instead, in lieu of hanging out at Grillby’s.

Tabitha was a person built on routine; it gave her a sense of comfort and control that she could dictate such normalcy for herself, and she was typically indisposed to changing it, wherever possible. But this wasn’t one such typical situation; after learning that _maybe Grillby’s was not the best choice of place for meeting Sans_ , she was willing to block things a bit differently, to keep herself safe.

Especially if she was going to keep trying this thing out, like Robyn was encouraging her to.

When she’d parked in the lot for the bowling center and turned the ignition off, she took a minute to calm herself before exiting her car. She gripped the steering wheel tightly as a makeshift stress ball while she took slow breaths, centering her mind and remembering what she would need to to get through today.

She’d talked through the entire order of events with Robyn last week, her friend patiently combing through every detail with her to examine and then either affirm or challenge her concerns as needed. Despite all of her nerves, Robyn was always able to take a neutral and logical look at things and help set Tabitha’s jittery mental processes straight.

He’d constantly checked in with her, never made a big deal of her requests or her panicky moments. Nothing he’d done was too forward, or too pushy. (Well, except the jacket, at first – but he was apologetic, willing to undo it, and she’d ended up appreciating the gesture in the end. _The heaviness of the thick fabric had made her feel so safe and secure._ )

In fact, Sans had been nothing but gentlemanly during their first not-exactly-a-date – and after, as his sparse texting to make sure their plans were still on had indicated.

… _So why did she still not trust him?_

She couldn’t decide whether or not the banter that she had begun sharing with him, the way she shared with Robyn, was a distraction from her rampant thoughts that was welcome; or if it was _un_ welcome, given how it made it more difficult to process and take note of her fears and anxieties, of any red flags she might spot.

_It all just felt too good to be true; like the other shoe was going to drop, and he was going to prove himself two-faced at any moment._ But Robyn was right: only time could prove that otherwise, and the only way to let time work its magic was to keep being around him.

_“Hey, these are good things he’s doing, there’s been no major flags yet,”_ Robyn had told her. _“So let’s look at what’s left. He’s either doing these good things genuinely, or_ not _genuinely. So, statistically, it’s fifty-fifty that he means well and means you no harm. … Just keep hanging out with him, see if he keeps being nice or, conversely, gives any bad signs, okay?”_

She repeated her friend’s words to herself in her head, a mantra, an intangible security blanket that she could hold onto whenever she felt the need. She held onto the comforting fact also, that this was a more public, more neutral location. If she needed help, she was far more likely to get it.

Seizing a steadier hold of her breath, Tabitha grabbed her keys, wallet, and track hoodie, locked her car, and headed inside.

The first thing she noticed when she stepped inside the entrance was that the lanes were as brightly-lit by the sitting areas as she remembered; if anything were to happen, it would be _very_ visible. Heaving a sigh of relief, she then turned her attention to finding Sans – per his texts, he’d be waiting just inside.

She spied him quickly, that blue hoodie and black cap leaning on the wall near the couches in front that were meant as a meetup-area of sorts, and made her way to him. When she got closer, she had been equally relieved to see that he was wearing his usual attire, not adding any extra pressure by trying to impress her – until she recognized upon his turning to face her that, in addition to his customary tee-shirt and track pants, he was also sporting _A BOW TIE_.

She began laughing outright and hard, and when all of her systems caught up with each other, she finally choked out: “Well _now_ you’re just being silly!”

Sans grinned and winked back, “hey, have ya _met_ me?”

“-Oh my _God_.” Tabitha was still wheezing between sentences. “You’re _ridiculous_.”

“nah, my name’s sans, thought we’ve been over this already,” he snarked, having closed the remaining distance between them. “heh, speaking of silly, i do not expect t’ be good at this, this’s my first time bowling ever in my life.”

“Well, you’re in good company then,” Tabitha returned, at last able to stand up straight. “I’ve never bowled either.”

He lifted a confused brow-bone. “... uh, how’dja know about this place then?”

“-Babysitting gig had me bring their kids here when I was still landing my real job.” Beaming widely, she jerked her head towards the front desk. “Let’s grab a lane?”

“yeah, let’s.” He followed her to where she stopped, far forward enough to read the pricing board without appearing to actually stand in line. “... huh. ya need special shoes for this?”

“... Yeah, it’s a thing.” She was looking down, digging through her wallet for the right change. “A couple of decades ago you _had_ to rent the shoes, but the policy at many places these days is that you can bring your own non-marking sneakers.”

“... huh.” Sans carefully examined his own high-tops, skeptically observing the dark soles. “... don’t think mine’re gonna work, then.”

“Oops, guess you’re renting.” As she put her wallet away, Tabitha smiled back up at him puckishly. “Lucky for me, non-marking soles are required at work, so I’m prepared.”

“heh, guess so.” Still eyeing his feet, he frowned. “... i’ll probably be okay, right?”

Suddenly sharing his concern, she looked down at his shoes, as well, but she quickly calmed. “... Yeah, you’re able to wear norm- er, ‘human’ shoes, so you’re good. They’ll have pretty much every size.”

“... oh, thank goodness,” Sans sighed. “if we weren’t able t’ have fun today, it would’ve hurt deep in my _sole_.”

Tabitha shook her head slowly as she moved towards the register line. “Aaaaaand we broke the seal for puns for the day.”

His smirk was far too large for her liking. “hey, ya _shoe_ -d have known that’d happen.”

With that, she was giggling into her hand all over again. “ _Stooop!_ ”

“aw, c’mon, don’t be so _tight-laced_ ,” he fired back, still smirking smugly. “’sides, you’re laughin’ already, i’ve already got ya _pin-_ ned down.”

“You’re terrible.” After a brief smile, Tabitha composed herself in time to step up to the now-open register. “Hi, he’s with me but he’s covering himself. It’s per game, too, right?”

“... Uh, yeah, it’s seven bucks per-game-per-person,” the teenaged cashier informed her in a rote tone.

“Hmm...” She looked at Sans. “How many games, do you think?”

Sans thought a minute. _Seven, fourteen, plus five for shoe rental, and tax._ “-think we could do two?”

“-Sounds good!” Tabitha turned back to the attendant. “So, two games? I’ve got non-marking soles, so I’m set for shoes.”

The cashier punched a few buttons on his register. “That’ll be $14.98. You’re on lane six.”

Sans wondered if her paying in cash had to do with anything, based on the last date and his resulting discussion with Grillby – but he didn’t have long to wonder, as it was now his turn at the register. “-go ahead an’ grab our seats, doll, i’ll be right there,” he told her as he stepped forward.

… He thought he caught a hint of a cringe in her expression, but he couldn’t be too sure. As it was, she didn’t leave. “No, I’ll stick with you, it’s fine.”

“... heh, alright. whatever ya want.” He smiled at her, then turned to address the cashier: “uh, so i _do_ need shoes, an’ yeah, two games, please.”

* * *

“So if you’ve never done it before either, what made you pick bowling?” Tabitha asked him as they approached the seats associated with the lane they’d been assigned.

Sans shrugged as he found a seat so he could change into his rented shoes. “eh, just thought it’d be fun. plus, y’know, based off our jobs, neither of us ‘re weaklings, so it’s not a bad fit. an’ i also figured since it was indoors, it wouldn’t be as bad for cold for ya.” Kicking off his own sneakers onto the floor, he checked, “-think ya mentioned at one point ya get cold easy, right?”

The fact that it was a public place helped too – in fact it had been the _biggest_ factor – but Sans wasn’t going to let slip everything he’d been talking about with Grillby in order to make all this go as smoothly as possible.

His last out-loud comment made Tabitha pause. “... Yeah, I think I did. Thanks. That’s nice of you.”

The way she smiled so shyly, so _sweetly_ , in response to the gesture, caused an unbidden smile of his own to form. “no problem, doll.”

-And there it was again, that tiny, half-suppressed cringe, and Sans, worried now, found himself compelled to inquire: “... everythin’ alright?”

“... Yeah. Um.” She broke their eye contact, staring off to the side, almost seeming unwilling to bring up whatever it was.

So Sans, instantly gentle-voiced, urged her: “... doll, _you call the shots_. if there’s somethin’ ya don’t like, big or small, just say the word, and it can be changed, _no question_.”

“- _There_ , that’s the thing,” Tabitha finally admitted, eyes shutting against her emotions. “It’s... um...”

“ _-Just ask him to stop, see what he says._ ”

Trying to keep Robyn’s advice in mind, Tabitha took a breath and spat out her issue: “-I’m not exactly comfortable, with the pet names. Not that I won’t _ever_ be, it’s just... too, uh, soon?”

… She didn’t hear any response from him, so she opened a single eye to see if he was reacting poorly. When she saw his absent eyelights and his orbital ridges raised high, she was initially afraid that she had insulted him.

What came from his mouth instead was: “... oh stars, i am _so_ sorry. i don’t even think i realized i was doin’ it.” A lone hand came up, rubbing at his temples. “... that’s no excuse, though. god, i’m – i’m so sorry.” She could _hear_ his teeth grind a bit in his flusterment. “would you – is there somethin’ ya prefer to go by...?”

… _From what she’d been able to tell so far, it was nigh impossible to fake the disappearing eyelights._ She released the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and consciously relaxed her shoulders. “... Um... ‘Tabs’ or ‘Tab’ is fine.”

“... ‘tabs’ it is.” His brows had lowered, but his eyelights were still gone as he watched her, clasping his phalanges together. “... if i mess up an’ do it again, _please_ speak up, okay? i won’t get mad, not one bit, i promise. i only want ya t’ feel _okay_ with all this, alright?”

… _How could a guy’s voice be so soft and tender, so_ scared _?_

Tabitha nodded back. “... Okay.” Needing to decompress and get her heart rate back under control, she sat down on the U-shaped bench, opposite him. The pair were silent for a while.

After a moment, she looked back up at him. “... So, um, why the tie?”

He fortunately caught the small smile she was giving him, and reciprocated with one of his own, just as eager to return to their previous lighthearted mood. “... heh, don’t ya know? it’s my _bow_ -ling at- _ti_ -re!”

Instantly, her smile was wiped away. “... It was a pun. I should have known.”

“-hah!, nah, figured last week’s bit of tryharding on my part deserved to be poked fun at.” Punchline _and_ actual, honest answer both delivered, he renewed his focus on donning the rental shoes. “... alright, you wanna go first, since i’m still lacin’ up here?”

Tabitha seemed guilty for it, but she stood and began entering their names into the scorekeeping machine. “... okay, if you’re sure.”

“hey, it makes sense,” he reassured her, still tying his second shoe. “you’ve got the time to _spare!_ ”

“-Oh my Go-” Tabitha’s head swung back to face him, and despite how she was trying to force it down, her grin was still obvious. “-Just tell me how to spell your name so I can put it in, you dork!”

“heheh, s-a-n-s.”

Tabitha punched it in, and the screen changed to the standard scoreboard display. Once she had ensured everything was set up correctly, she stood and made her way to the ball rack at the side of their lane, picking out a ball at random. Her eyes widened as she lifted it. “-Wow, I knew these were heavy, but I wasn’t quite ready for it...”

“oof, thanks for the heads-up.” Finally finished with his shoes, Sans scooched closer, sitting on the end of the faux-leather bench nearest to the end of their lane to watch, grinning, unhurried. “gonna go?”

“-Yeah, gimme a sec.” Tabitha stepped in front of the lane, sending her focus to the arm carrying the bowling ball so she could gauge its mass and how to propel it. She bent slightly and stretched her arm behind her the way she’d seen bowlers do, her physical savvy from both her career and her hobby giving her some confidence that she might not suck so bad at this as she feared.

… Her first ball ended up in the gutter.

“ _yikes_ ,” Sans sounded out sympathetically, but she could still _hear_ the smugness in it.

“Shut up,” she laughed, grabbing another ball from the rack. She tried to narrow her focus onto her task anew and remember how her muscles had felt and fired the first time, making mental adjustments to ensure that the ball would go straight down the lane this time.

It went into the opposite gutter.

“looks like ya overcompensated,” Sans chuckled from his seat.

“I’d like to see _you_ try this, jerkbutt! We’ll see who’s laughing after that,” she threatened him playfully as she checked the screen that showed her empty frame. “... Huh, guess it updates automatically?”

“... looks like it. alright, let’s see how i do at this.” Sans stood as Tabitha came back to the bench, trading places almost perfectly.

He was a little more prepared for the weight of the bowling ball when he picked one up, thanks to Tabitha’s vocal surprise, but he knew by feel that he’d made a grimace as well, one that Tabitha would be able to see.

Fortunately, she didn’t say anything – though she did smirk. “- _tch_ ,” Sans muttered as he lined himself up to make his first attempt.

- _A gutter ball_.

“See?!” Tabitha crowed from the couch, and Sans turned to look at her, a sheepish smile appearing on his skull.

“... heh, guess i got a dose of _karma_ ,” he quipped, running a hand along his cervical vertebrae. Then... “... y’think it’s too late for a refund?” he joked, his standard grin creeping back. “we could probably use the _spare_ change!”

Tabitha snorted and giggled, but she held fast. “Nuh-uh, you were the one who suggested this, you’re not allowed to back out! Besides, I know you only said that for the pun, I’m onto you by now!”

He raised both hands in mock-innocence. “hey, don’t go makin’ accusations like that! i didn’t say anythin’, i’ve been _framed_ here!”

This time, Tabitha was reduced to helpless snickering as she bent her face to her lap to hide it. “-No fair! You’re not gonna do this all afternoon, aren’t you?!”

“-ya better believe i’m gonna,” he answered, making a mental note on some potential wordplay for later. “ya know me by now, don’t ya? that’s how i _roll!_ ”

He used the opportunity while she was laughing too hard to speak to pick up his other ball without her commenting on it. _This_ time, however, he made minute changes to his posture, feeling how his body aligned with the pins, trusting in his motion for the first time in months, in _ages_.

_Focus._

The roll hit just left of center, taking down half of the pins with it.

As Tabitha gasped in both shock and celebration, Sans assumed a shit-eating grin and chuffed out mildly: “... well, would ya look at that. i can’t believe it’s not _gutter._ ”

“- _Fucking shit_ ,” Tabitha roared under her breath, her vowels clipped enough to disguise the crass nature of her language – there was a family a few lanes over. Once her laughter subsided a bit, she barked out hoarsely, “ _No fair!_ ”

“-oh it’s _totally_ fair, ya made fun of me too, now it’s _your_ turn to see where that gets ya.” He gave her a smarmy little wink as he came back to the seat. “alright, d- _tabs,_ your turn again.”

Tabitha quieted at his self-catch, but she nodded appreciatively as she walked to the ball rack. No longer surprised by the weight of the ball, she tried to position herself like she had for her second roll, and then turn slightly, feeling that those changes might help her.

- _Gutter_.

This time, Sans’ tone was much closer to annoyed empathy. “really? first three in the gutter?” But his face went rascally again. “-i call _bowl_ -shit!”

“- _Oh my God!_ ”

He coyly replied: “hey, you know we’re just here for _splits_ ‘n giggles!”

“I hate you!” she burst out, holding her stomach that hurt just as bad as her cheeks by now.

“heh, too late, i already got ya _rollin_ ’ on the floor laughin’!”

She shook her head and concentrated on her next roll, this time trying to feel the weight of the ball more and feel for its momentum rather than her own stance.

_Finally,_ her ball connected, knocking over seven of the pins.

“-now _there’s_ some holy _rollin_ ’!” Sans cheered as the machine scooped up the spent pins to place down new ones.

Tabitha had her fists raised high in triumph as she stepped down the ledge towards the couch, eyes and smile gleaming. “Whoo! Hey, with any luck I’m finally getting the hang of it!”

“heh, yeah, looks like! and hey, you’re ahead of me now on the scoreboard. ‘means i gotta catch up t’ ya.” He threw his hood up over his cap before he grabbed a ball – he was going to give a _performance_ today. “-welp, it’s time to _gutt-’er_ done.”

* * *

They finished their first round with very little to show for it, neither of their scores breaking one hundred. _Damn, he was out of practice. And out of tune with his own motion. ~~He’d have to fix that.~~_

“ _ahhh_ , man, this game ‘s been _gutter_ humiliation,” Sans sighed as they took a break on the couch and let the score machine clear itself.

Still chuckling in embarrassment, Tabitha pointed out, “Hey, we both got better as we got more practice in! – Even _if_ some of those last shots were awful.”

“eh, _split_ happens i guess,” he replied airily, giving her a crooked smile. “... but hey, thank goodness we got another round t’ play, right? _this_ one’s for keeps.”

“Don’t take it too serious now,” she joked, grinning right back without backing down. “You might get karma’d again if you brag too much.”

“hah!, is that a bet?” Sans challenged, leering devilishly at her. “-you’re on!”

“Hahaha! Alright then, wise guy, if you’re so confident, you can go first this time,” Tabitha countered, and she stretched out an upward-facing palm towards the ball rack.

“well, if you insist,” he said, standing slowly and making a show of stretching his back and shoulders before approaching the lane. He picked up a ball, giving her one last wink before he turned to make his roll. “... this time i’m gonna see if i can launch a _preemptive strike_.”

As much as he wanted to pay attention to how he had his date flustered with mirth, he temporarily ignored the sounds behind him to focus on the motions of his body. _Fluid. Adapt._

- _Strike!_

He eyed Tabitha over his shoulder with a combined look of determination and gloating. “how’dya like _them_ apples?”

She was wide-eyed and laughing even as her face shone with vicarious pride, hands flying up to shield her open, cheering mouth.

… _He didn’t think he could ever get enough of seeing her happy like that_.

He turned to face her fully, grinning wider than he’d remembered in a while. “heh, well, there ya go! let’s see if i can’t give a repeat performance, shall we?” he boasted, reaching for another ball.

- _Six pins!_

“-Hey, you’re not supposed to get good this quick!” Tabitha exclaimed through her glee.

Smirking back, he barked out, “heh, never say never!” He grabbed another ball.

- _Gutter_.

“Aaaaaand there it is,” Tabitha smirked.

He wasn’t about to admit that he’d been a little mentally locked on his thoughts of her for that one instead of the game at hand. Instead, he shrugged, hands up by his shoulders. “eh, can’t win ‘em all,” he stated sagely. “in life, ya gotta _bowl_ with the punches.”

Tabitha was too busy laughing to respond.

He grinned. “hey, ya don’t gotta reply, _bowl_ -ieve it or not i already know i’m _gutter_ -ly ridiculous.”

She was bent double in her seat, wheezing noiselessly. He gave her a moment to recover, chortling a bit himself, and when her vocal cords caught up to her he said, “alright, your turn, an’ you’ve still got plenty of chances t’ overtake me again. just remember, it’s all ‘n the _ball_ -istics.”

-If the way she didn’t begin laughing anew was any indication, he might have finally overdone it and desensitized her; but she still stood, went to the ball rack, and took her first roll of the second round.

- _Strike!_

“ _hey!_ , lucky strike! _yeah!_ ” he shouted, holding his hand out for a high-five.

He wasn’t sure if she would take him up on it – he had no way of knowing what she may or may not have been through, after all – but he was more pleased than he expected to be when she trotted over to slap her palm to his, his SOUL fluttering at the contact they’d made, albeit brief.

As he tried to calm himself and not display his utter bliss on his face too much, she quickly got back to business, seeming to carefully rely on muscle and mental memory while positioning herself – and her efforts paid off, or else fate stepped in: she managed to knock all ten pins down twice with both remaining balls!

She was a little surprised to hear Sans coolly comment behind her: “-okay, you’re out.”

She looked at him in confusion. “... Why?”

“-three strikes!” he answered, with a wicked grin.

Her voice raw with all the laughing she’d already been doing, she snorted out, “That’s _baseball_ , you friggin’ goof!”

“hey, i thought we established i know jack about human sports!” he returned with a wink. Then his expression went a touch softer, and more genuinely, he told her: “seriously though, congrats, that set was incredi- _bowl_.”

Tabitha, grinning despite herself, stood up straight, her arms crossed in clearly-faked disappointment. “I’m starting to think you dragged me here just so you could make a billion puns at me!” she complained jokingly.

That only made him waggle his brows. “heh, don’t ya mean a ‘ _bowl_ -lion’ puns?”

Tabitha’s palm rose to her forehead as she tried not to chuckle out loud.

“-heh, but really, who’s to say?” he continued. “suppose i hadn’t? – we both know i’d still devolve at _some_ point, even if at first there was _no pin intended_.”

Half-hearted groaning noises began to issue from Tabitha instead.

“-hahaha, okay, okay, i’ll get my mind out of the pun _gutter,_ ” he laughed when they had recuperated some. “my turn now.”

Tabitha let out a powerful snort. “ _Snrk-_ Hahaha!”

… But after a minute, she went solemn, quiet.

Thus far, Tabitha had more or less decided that his humor _was_ welcome, after all, since it hadn’t detracted from her being able to notice or speak her needs. Better yet, nor had it prevented him from listening to her. She was really, _really_ grateful for that.

There _was_ , however, one new issue that had cropped up now. “... Um, so, like, my stomach and face _seriously_ hurt. Like, painfully. Like, for real, I know you know I don’t _actually_ hate humor, but...”

His sockets widened, and his grin went slack. “-oh! need me t’ chill for a bit?”

“Just enough for my sides to stop spasming,” Tabitha admitted ashamedly.

“-hey, don’t feel bad. i hear ya. just tell me whenever, an’ i’ll take a break for ya.” That skeletal smile then returned. “don’t wanna actually hurt ya, but... you better believe i’m gonna go right back t’ punning as soon as i get the green light from ya, though.”

“That’s fine,” Tabitha beamed back at him. “Just... for a little bit, that’s all.”

_That goddamn adorable expression again –_ his eyes hooded with reverence as he continued to smile. “i gotcha, tabs. puns in more judicious doses. promise.”

… And to her immense relief, for the rest of the day, he kept it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … the truth behind the bowtie is
> 
> it was so that
> 
> \- _i, the author, could make a_ bowl _-lion puns!!!_
> 
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> GODS the bowling cashier’s death-by-customer-service tone of voice is a MOOD
> 
> -fwiw, Sans will not respond to or honor attempts to actually change his punning ways, but if he’s sent a loved one’s sides to orbit, he IS merciful enough to let them come back down to Earth before blasting them off again
> 
> (sorry this one was so long, folks. i couldn’t bring myself to split this one for awkwardness reasons, but i’ll try to partition them better next time)  
> (see yall in a week lol)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as Tabitha was concerned, things couldn’t get much worse.
> 
> It took all of her willpower to _not think about him don’t think about scary things_ whenever her brain had a moment to wander. That is, until she couldn’t avoid the subject any longer.

“-hey! ya found me!”

“You’re not hard to find,” Tabitha called back from several yards away, still walking towards him with a huge grin on her face. “The blue jacket makes it easy.”

“heh, guess i’ll have t’ keep that around me every time now, huh?” Sans joked, standing to greet her as she approached the blanket he’d prepared, hands still in his pockets. “... it’s good t’ see ya.”

“... You too.” She set her bag and cooler on the warm grass by the blanket’s edge, watching warily to see what he’d do next – but he simply sat back down, leaving plenty of wide-open space for her to join him. She tried to bid her shoulders and jaw to relax. “... So, um, should we start eating first, or did you want to talk for a little bit, or...?” she asked, sitting pretzel on the flannel spread next to him, yet still at a reasonable distance away.

He merely answered her with a genuine and soft smile. “either-or. ’s up to you, tabs. your _pick..._ nic.”

She shook her head as she laughed.

* * *

“-hey!, there ya are!”

“Here I am!” she replied jauntily, having sneakily sat down on the park bench he’d been occupying when he wasn’t looking her way. Then she eyed what he was carrying with curiosity. “... What’s the ream of paper for?”

“heh, so, uh, i was wonderin’ if you’d be interested in doin’ a little experiment with me today,” Sans replied, one hand still holding tightly to the unopened package of computer paper while his other rose to worry at the back of his skull. “... sorry, it’s not somethin’ we gotta do by any means, as always it’s your call-”

“-Well, hold on. It depends on what it is.” Her hands still kneaded at each other uneasily in her lap. “... Um, what were you thinking?”

“... heh, okay,” he answered, phalanges coming back down to grasp the ream two-handed. “er... i was thinkin’ maybe we grab lunch, like we said, but, uh, bring it with us, and, well... i found a site with a bunch of directions for foldin’ different kinds of paper boats, and, uh, i thought maybe we could test an’ compare which ones work best?”

“... So _that’s_ why you suggested this park instead, since it has the pond,” Tabitha murmured slyly, smirking back in the face of his shyness.

“heh, yeah, that was th’ idea,” he chuckled nervously. “... uh, so, you up for it? we don’t gotta, we _can_ just do lunch, but, i figured it might be fun...”

As she finished glancing about, at the number of people enjoying the beautiful late-June weather, she reached a decision: “-No, it _does_ sound fun. I kinda wish you’d said something sooner though! I could’ve swiped some paper from the office or something, instead of you having to buy some...”

“heh, nah, it’s alright. we needed more at my bro’s ‘n my apartment anyway, i’ll just take what’s left with me. it’s not like we’re gonna use this whole thing today, i think.” Seeming relieved, the corners of Sans’ grin relaxed back to their usual locations. “... so, uh, lunch first?”

“-Yeah! Sandwich shop first, then we’ll come back.” Tabitha was already standing, slinging her bag back over her shoulder. “-We should look for twigs or pebbles or organic stuff along the way – no trash in case it sinks, don’t wanna litter the water, but it’ll be awesome if any of them can actually _hold_ things without tipping over...”

She missed seeing the flush of blue in Sans’ zygoma, and the way his eyelights grew in size.

* * *

Sans didn’t think things could get much better.

Ever since the request about pet names during their bowling date, Tabitha hadn’t found cause to correct him in any other regard, nor did her body language or sensed emotions ( _rarely_ , only when he couldn’t be sure on looks alone) ever indicate that he had made her uncomfortable. Her anxious moments were happening less and less, and Sans was reasonably certain that she was becoming more unwound around him as the weeks went by.

Moreover, she had only proved herself more and more amazing with time, too. She was able to cut loose and have fun, to not only take a joke but dish the teasing right back at him – kindly, of course. And she was whip-smart – he hadn’t even _considered_ testing payloads on the paper boats, but it had turned out to be an excellent idea that extended the entertainment value (and therefore time spent together) of that date.

Even the way she occasionally snorted when she was laughing at her very hardest was becoming as devastatingly attractive to him as those gorgeous, twinkling, deep-brown eyes.

Sans could tell that the spring in his step – newly-present though it was, only within the past month or so – was becoming even lighter still with each day, so much so that he was beginning to feel as though he walked on air.

_Stars._

… It was slow going, to be sure, but he was perfectly fine with that, comparatively. And here, he had to be. And so far, it was only helping, not harming.

In a weird way, he’d made peace with not being able to know how to make things work in advance. After all, he didn’t have to worry about what to do if she was surely going to tell him one way or another, right? She’d not once been simply giving in to his suggestions – that much he could tell. _All good signs!_ All he had to do was breathe through it and remain a calm, steady anchor for her.

… A tall order.

It was still a veritable tightrope-walk, a certain practiced uncertainty in not knowing how she would feel, but it made Sans feel all the better to know that she would be vocal about it if encouraged. Not a hundred percent better, of course – it still went well against the coping mechanisms he’d carefully cultivated for so long, and challenged his purview in a whole variety of new ways that he just wasn’t _used to_ – but it pacified him nonetheless.

~~As long as he kept himself distracted in work or Grillby’s or~~

-No, it was fine. She nearly always said if something bothered her; he always changed course. _A working plan_. And a plan was only ever what he needed.

_Breathe_.

He’d control what he could, and let go of what he couldn’t. It was all he _could_ do.

* * *

As far as Tabitha was concerned, things couldn’t get much worse.

It took all of her willpower to _not think about him don’t think about unhappy things_ whenever her brain had a moment to wander. That is, until she couldn’t avoid the subject any longer.

She’d been enjoying her lunch in the breakroom mid-week, using her spare mental bandwidth _stay busy keep busy_ to plan out when and how she would get this week’s to-do list done. _Groceries, dental checkup, and her roots needed touching up with hair dye, which would mean blocking out time in the bathroom at home_. It was going to be a busy week, but Tabitha was never shy about crossing necessary tasks off. Staying busy was always best.

It was when her mind reminded her with far too much ease that she would be fitting a _date_ somewhere in her week as well that her thought process began to break down.

_-Oh God, why am I thinking about this?_

She tried to yank her mind back to the task she’d been doing, _go back to scheduling, gotta plan your week out, tomorrow’s your day off, your dentist exam is in the morning and you’ll get groceries after, I wish I already knew what day we’ll end up meeting this time so I could plan around it, the paper boats were really fun-_

-No. There was no way she was actually looking forward to this. Nuh-uh. Not possible.

Tabitha put her fork down and shut her eyes, focusing enough to scold herself to _not get too complacent, sure he’s warm and funny like nobody else but_ you don’t know _when he’s going to just_ stop, and Robyn, sitting next to her, noticed.

“... Alllright, what’s _eating_ you?” Robyn asked out loud over her leftover pizza.

Hurriedly, Tabitha blurted out, “I-it’s nothing.”

Robyn quirked a brow at her in disappointment. “Lies, I know what you being anxious looks like. You didn’t even respond to my pun this time.” She moved her chair closer to Tabitha’s. “Talk to me.”

Even _if_ Robyn wasn’t wrong... Tabitha shook her head sadly. “... It’s weird.”

“So what if it is? I’m your best friend,” Robyn cajoled her. “It won’t be weird for _me_.”

… Finally, Tabitha sighed. “... Fine.” For a few seconds, she thought about how to word her problem. “... So, like... I was planning out my week in my head... and I realized...”

“... Realized what?” Robyn pressed, when Tabitha fell silent.

Tabitha had to take a deep breath before she finished. “... That I was automatically thinking about how a date this week would fit into my schedule.”

Robyn’s oversized grin was borderline oppressive. “Well, that’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

“... I don’t know,” Tabitha admitted, her features wrinkling despite herself.

Robyn noticed, and calmed. “... Aha. So the little voice in your head is still scared about this.”

Tabitha gulped. “... Yeah?”

Settling into much more of a helpful attitude, Robyn leaned forward on the table, on her elbows, and spoke more gently. “Sweetie, it’s not something to be ashamed of, it makes sense. You got hurt real bad in the past, right? It’s only reasonable you’d still feel uneasy.”

“But, like, how am I _really_ supposed to feel about this?” Tabitha murmured, silent tears welling up in her eyes.

Robyn let off a more knowing smile. “... Hard to trust your mind when that voice is there, isn’t it?”

Tabitha merely made a grump face at her friend.

“... Well, don’t listen to the voice, then! Trust the facts.” Robyn thought for a moment. “... Let me put it this way. Let’s say he disappeared tomorrow, never existed, no hanging out with him again, _done_. How does that make you feel?”

Tabitha couldn’t ignore the lump that rose to her throat. “... Bad.”

Robyn eyed her meaningfully. “‘Bad’ how?”

Tabitha tried, she did, but she just couldn’t put her finger on anything concrete.

So Robyn stepped in with a suggestion of her own. “... Would you miss hanging out with him?”

And _even in the face of all her long-standing uncertainty_ , Tabitha had to answer: “... Yeah...”

“-Then that’s a good thing!” Robyn concluded, retreating back enough to be less in Tabitha’s face. “You’re getting more comfortable with him! And hey, maybe it’ll only get better from here, y’know?”

But Tabitha’s eyes widened, enough to let a few drops trail down. “... Oh God.”

“... What’s wrong?”

“-No, no, no, that’s the _worst_ possible outcome.” Tabitha rested her forehead in her hand, the elbow of which was propped up on the breakroom table. “-If it goes w-wrong, if he’s _lying_ , then I-”

“-Tabitha.”

She looked up in time to have her shoulders grabbed by Robyn so as to face her directly, helping to short-circuit the panic attack that had been nearly underway. “- _It is okay to let yourself feel good about this,_ ” Robyn coached her, making close eye contact. “You and I have talked about _every single time_ you’ve met with him. He hasn’t done anything wrong by you yet, so it is _normal_ to feel good around him. Okay? Your feelings, _either_ set, are not betraying you here. They’re only able to work with what they see.”

Tabitha took a slow, steadying breath, then protested: “B-but what if-”

“-Hey, remember, it's not an either-or, black-or-white thing,” Robyn told her, hands still on Tabitha’s shoulders as she smiled softly, encouragingly. “You can keep testing it out and trying this with him, and the second he _does_ do something not okay, you can be _done_ with it, and it will have _no_ bearing on you or your life.”

“... But... how? How do I keep ‘testing’ it?” Tabitha asked, blinking out the remainder of her tears. “I-I don’t know what happens next, I can hardly ever bring myself to _think_ about it...”

“Okay! Well...” Robyn’s eyes strayed for a moment as she racked her brain. “... Maybe see if you can actually _talk_ with him? About bigger, more in-depth things? Not just day-to-day crap?”

“-No, n-not that, i-it could lead to stuff, i-it’s too much-”

“-Okay! That's fine! I didn’t mean telling him _everything_ , but that's still fine!” Robyn interjected, resting back in her chair. “... Hm, then, maybe a good next step is... well, he lent you his jacket that one time, and that ended up okay, right?... Would stuff like that make sense as a safe next step for you?”

And Tabitha immediately thought about how the jacket felt while it was draped around her shoulders, how it made her feel so _warm_ and _safe_ whenever she felt shy during the remainder of that evening.

Slowly, Tabitha replied: “... Maybe...”

“-Okay! So do more of that kind of stuff.” Robyn kept smiling at Tabitha, _soft, calm, gentle. Reassuring._ “Stuff like sitting right next to him, leaning into him and stuff, then holding hands, maybe. _Little_ things, little touches. See what he does, if he keeps respecting your needs, and more importantly, how _you_ feel about it when you do.”

Tabitha exhaled slowly. It was a sound plan, and a logical next step, but... “ _... It’s scary._ ”

“I know, sweetie.” Robyn came closer to hug her. “And remember, it’s okay to be scared. – But you’ll never know otherwise, right?” She squeezed Tabitha tighter. “You won’t know if it’s gonna be the best possible thing to have happened to you if you don’t try anyway. So don’t cheat yourself out of it, juuust in case. Okay?”

Tabitha nodded into Robyn’s shoulder, and Robyn held her even tighter, if that was possible to begin with. _Even if she didn’t try for herself, she’d try for Robyn_. She owed her best friend who had seen her through so many things that much.

Robyn was right back then, and she was right now. She always was.

When Robyn pulled away, she looked Tabitha in the eyes once more. “Try remembering this: you can’t predict or control what he’s going to do. But the second he _does_ show you something, you can act on it, _right away_. The moment he does, you’ll know. But until then, the only way is to keep being around him so he can show his true colors one way or another.” She cocked her head questioningly. “... Right?”

Nodding again, Tabitha wiped the heel of her hand over her lower lids, and returned to her lunch. Enough time had passed that there were only a few minutes remaining in their lunch break, and she knew she would have to scarf down what was left of her food at full speed at this point. Similarly, Robyn got back to eating her meal as quickly as possible, as well.

Once they’d returned to work, whenever Tabitha’s mind trailed back to her fears and anxieties, she would try to sneak a moment aside to breathe and remind herself of Robyn’s wisdom.

_She could control the outcome the moment she had the info she needed_.

And until then, what she couldn’t control, she’d try to let go of. It was all she _could_ do. … Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -postin' a little early since i gotta be up at frickin' dawn for a thing tomorrow morning which also means bed early, ughhh. but you shall still have your timely update :D
> 
> a little on the short side but still *cracks knuckles* gotta do a lil emotion’l set up for next time~
> 
> -'what’s next time,' you ask?
> 
> you gonna find out~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> 
> _(next week!)_
> 
> also, yes, Tabitha does her own hair color! doesn’t she already do _everything else_ on her own?? :P


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus had given Sans an idea. It may not be quite the same just yet, but... it was an option available to him, wasn’t it?
> 
> Sans whipped his smartphone out of his pocket to fire off a text message. As he typed, he told his brother, “... welp, i may actually have plans, so don’t count me in just yet.”

BEEP!, BEEP!, BE-DE-BEEP! BEEP!, BEEP!, BE-DE-BEEP! BEEP!, BEE-

… _Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh._

Sans rolled over to smash his fist on the top of the simple digital clock that lived on his nightstand. Sound silenced, he sat up groggily, rubbing at his darkened sockets and wondering for the umpteenth time how it had been possible to make an alarm tone so annoying that it would wake even _him_ up. Then again, it was a somewhat essential device – Papyrus had gotten it for him, as well as the little table for it, soon after Sans had gotten this job that required him to definitively be up early.

Given the recent summer solstice, there was already plenty of sunlight streaming through the hair-thin space between the blackout curtains on his window. _Warm and dark. Not cold and bright._ He still planted his feet on the floor and stood up, shuffling barefoot across the wooden planks, peeling back a corner of the fabric to double-check the view outside, make sure that it was of Ebott City and not Snowdin. He sighed in relief to see grass-green, deciduous trees and picturesque blue skies dotted with fluffy little clouds.

Letting the curtain fall closed again, he went back to the nightstand to shut off the snooze alarm. The electric glowing face showed that it was 6:32 a.m. Another good sign.

The ability to tell the time off of it quickly and easily was the other reason Papyrus had gotten him this clock specifically. _Even if he’d never know why it soothed Sans’ panic episodes._

Sans changed out of his bedshirt and shoved on a fresh sleeveless tee, shorts, and socks, moving with speed so that he could make it to the breakfast table. But before he got to the door, Papyrus peeped his head past the frame to glance into the bedroom.

“-AH! BROTHER! YOU ARE AWAKE! EXCELLENT! I HEARD YOUR ALARM GO OFF, I AM GLAD TO SEE THAT YOU CONTINUE TO BE RESPONSIVE TO IT!”

“... yeah, bro,” Sans smiled. Then... “... you’re usually in the kitchen by now, bro. somethin’ wrong?”

Papyrus lifted a hand to play with his shirt collar nervously. “... OH, ER, NOTHING IS ‘WRONG’, SO TO SPEAK. I WAS SIMPLY TEXTING WITH METTATON FOR A BIT, THAT’S ALL.”

Sans’ grin turned mischievous. “... heh. whaaat, did he rain good mornin’ kisses on ya?”

Papyrus’ spine stiffened. “- _I WILL APPRECIATE YOUR REFRAINING FROM CONTINUED ‘SHOWERS OF KISSES’ JOKES._ I AM OLDER AND WISER THAN THAT NOW!”

“heh, whatever you say, paps.” Sans began to follow his brother down the hall of their apartment.

“... ALTHOUGH, AS LONG AS WE ARE ON THE SUBJECT, I DO HAVE A QUESTION I WANTED TO ASK YOU,” Papyrus disclosed as he led the way.

“-so _that’s_ why you stopped by my room,” Sans reasoned smugly.

“YES, AS A MATTER OF FACT, IT IS.” Papyrus made a beeline for the fridge once they got to their kitchen, pulling out a carton of eggs and a pack of bacon, while Sans instead headed straight for the cabinet for a mug, then to the coffee maker they’d gotten after arriving on the Surface.

“... well, don’t keep me waitin’ bro, _lay_ it on me,” Sans urged him as he poured. He didn’t get any for Papyrus – his brother had never needed any additional substances to rouse himself to action.

Papyrus paused mid-reach for a large frying pan in an upper cabinet to glare at Sans. “... THAT WAS AN EGG PUN.”

“heheheh, ya got me.” Sans laughed. “but anyways, like i was sayin’, we only got so much time before work bro, ya better _break_ it t’ me _fast._ ”

“... I WILL CHOOSE TO IGNORE THAT ONE.” Papyrus had already turned back to the stove, cranking the heat to its highest setting. “AS I WAS GOING TO SAY, METTATON HAS BEEN INVITED TO A MEDIA DINNER EVENT FOR JULY-THE-FOURTH THIS SATURDAY, WHICH INVOLVES AN EXCELLENT AND HIGH-ALTITUDE VIEW OF THE FIREWORKS FROM ONE OF THE CITY’S SKY-SCRAPING BUILDINGS, AND HE HAS ASKED ME ALONG TO THE EVENT AS HIS PLUS-ONE.”

Sans was gladdened to see the ginger-colored, happy blush bloom on his little brother’s zygoma. “-awww, bro! that’s sweet! are ya gonna go?”

“OF _COURSE_ I HAVE ALREADY ACCEPTED! IT HAS BEEN TOO AGONIZINGLY LONG BETWEEN VISITS WITH MY DATEMATE DUE TO SURFACING SHENANIGANS AND HIS EFFORTS TO LAUNCH HIS CAREER ANEW HERE!” Papyrus laid several pieces of bacon onto the now-hot pan. “ON THE RARE OCCASION OF OUR SCHEDULES ALIGNING, IT WOULD BE PREPOSTEROUS NOT TO SEIZE THE OPPORTUNITY!”

“i’m glad for ya, bro,” Sans sincerely told him, fetching two slices of bread out and sliding them into the toaster to go with the rest of their food that Papyrus had handled. “tell the tin can i said ‘hi’.”

“... THAT BRINGS ME TO MY REAL QUESTION, ACTUALLY.” Papyrus began cracking four eggs, one at a time, into the pan that was now sodden with bacon grease. “... I AM... AWARE, THAT YOU WOULD LIKELY BE LEFT ALONE IN THAT CASE, SO I ASKED METTATON IF IT WOULD BE ALRIGHT IF YOU JOINED US. AND HE WAS QUITE UNDERSTANDING AND GAVE HIS PERMISSION, BUT ASKED THAT HE BE INFORMED OF YOUR ATTENDANCE THIS AFTERNOON AT THE LATEST, SO HE COULD MAKE THE NECESSARY INQUIRIES OF HIS HOSTS FOR THE EVENING.”

“... oh. well. that’s... nice of ya.” … _Did_ he have anything to do that day? He knew the garage was going to be closed, since it was a nationally obligatory holiday. But as much as being able to enjoy time with his brother where he _wouldn’t_ be actively fussed over was quite appealing, spending that time a) probably in a suit and tie b) with the flamboyant, loud robot as well was, well, the opposite.

“... YOU _ARE_ NOT WORKING THAT DAY, CORRECT?” Papyrus questioned, squinting at his brother as he used a spatula to ensure that the pan’s contents were cooking thoroughly. “IT WOULD BE A CRIME FOR YOU TO BE MADE TO WORK ON THE HOLIDAY. AN _ACTUAL_ CRIME, IN FACT. ONE MADE WORSE BY THE INHERENT IMPLICATION OF SPECIES-ISM.”

Sans snorted tersely. “-nah, nah, the shop closes for the holiday. they’re not unprofessional or felons for being lower-class, bro, you can be a little less _rattled_ about that.” The toaster popped the slices upwards, and Sans nabbed them in midair, placing one on each of the two plates he’d already set out.

Papyrus’ scapulae relaxed under his shirt. “... I KNOW, I APOLOGIZE. I _DO_ LOGICALLY UNDERSTAND THAT, I JUST NEED TO KEEP WORKING TO PUT THAT KNOWLEDGE INTO PRACTICE.” The lanky skeleton kept at his labors over the sizzling stove. “... AT ANY RATE, IT IS UP TO YOU. IT MAY BE FUN, OR AT LEAST A DISTRACTION, BUT I AM COGNIZANT THAT IT WOULD RENDER YOU A THIRD WHEEL AROUND MY DATEMATE, AND I WOULD UNDERSTAND IF YOU WERE TO REFUSE.”

As Sans did his best to suppress his chuckling at the unintended pun his brother had made, there was one term in his brother’s considerations that had caught his now-appropriately-caffeinated attention.

… _Datemate. Huh._

Papyrus had given Sans an idea. It may not be quite the same just yet, but... it was an option available to him, wasn’t it?

_And the issue with Mettaton aside, he’d actually rather..._

His part of the breakfast prep done, Sans whipped his smartphone out of his pocket to fire off a text message. As he typed, he told his brother, “... welp, i may actually have plans, so don’t count me in just yet. i’ll let ya know by noon for sure, though.”

Papyrus’ browbone raised nearly to the top of his skull. “IF I MAY ASK, WITH WHOM COULD YOU POSSIBLY HAVE PLANS?” the younger monster asked him. “YOU KNOW TORIEL AND FRISK ARE INVOLVED IN A POLITICAL EVENT WITH THE KING IN THE WASHINGTON DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, AND WITH UNDYNE ACCOMPANYING AS SECURITY AS USUAL, DOCTOR ALPHYS IS TRAVELING WITH THE LOT OF THEM.” Having listed off all of their known loved ones, Papyrus fixed a leery glint on Sans. “... SURELY YOU DON’T INTEND TO SPEND THE HOLIDAY AT GRILLBY’S ESTABLISHMENT WITHOUT SEEING THE FIREWORKS, DO YOU?”

“heh, nah, nothin’ like that.” Sans put his phone away – he recalled that the dance crew he’d seen Tabitha with met on Wednesdays, meaning it was her day off from work and it might be a bit before she woke up or responded. “-i’ve kinda been hangin’ out with somebody lately, so i’m gonna see if they’re free.”

“... ‘HANGING OUT WITH SOMEBODY’?” Papyrus repeated incredulously, his focus parting from their still-cooking breakfast. “AS IN, A NEW FRIEND?”

… _Curse his mouth for perpetually saying too damn much._

Sans stalled by taking a long sip of his coffee as he thought about how to handle this. _Should he reveal this at this stage of things? Would that be overstepping with her?_

… Well, it _had_ been a month. And it’s not like she didn’t know about his brother, or that he lived with him. As long as he could control his brother’s inevitable excitement, it would be fine, right? In fact, it was sort of a wonder that Papyrus hadn’t already come to suspect anything on his own.

Besides, with how things had only seemed to get better as they went, he sort of wanted to celebrate a little. Even if that was just through sharing the joy it brought him.

In classic fashion, Sans fired off a slow wink at his little brother. “... nooooot quite.”

Papyrus persisted in his confusion. “WELL, IF NOT A FRIEND, THEN WHAT-”

-Sans was lucky enough to catch the exact moment his brother connected the dots. He froze stark still, eyes widened to whiteness brighter than the ivory of his bones. Better still, it was a full several seconds before Papyrus found his voice again.

“..................................................... SANS, DO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT YOU HAVE FOUND A DATEMATE OF YOUR OWN?”

The shorter skeleton delighted in dangling each syllable before his brother. “maaaaaaaaybe.”

Papyrus, hyperactive powerhouse that he was, instantly exploded into a deluge of indignance.

“- _YOU_ HAVE _!_ ” he railed. “ _THIS IS AN_ OUTRAGE _, SANS! HOW_ DARE _YOU NOT TELL YOUR OWN BROTHER SOMETHING SO TERRIBLY AND OVERWHELMINGLY_ IMPORTANT _! YOU SHOULD BE_ ASHAMED _OF-_ OH NO, MY BACON IS BURNING!” the skeleton interrupted himself, rushing to switch the stove off and flip the eggs and bacon onto the ready plates before they crossed the threshold from “crispy” to “blackened”.

As the taller skeleton ferried both plates to the little table where Sans had since sat down, he kept scolding: “THIS HAD BETTER NOT BE SOME JAPE YOU ARE PLAYING ON ME, SANS! YOU HAD BETTER HAVE A GOOD REASON FOR HIDING THIS FROM ME, AND IT HAD _BETTER_ NOT BE ONE OF YOUR NEFARIOUS LYING PRANKS, OR SO HELP ME-!”

“-hey, hey!, it’s not, bro,” Sans threw up his hands defensively, still giggling like a madman at his brother’s oversized reaction. It was a wonder that he could withstand Papyrus’ loud volumes, given his lack of tolerance for Mettaton’s. _Those two really were perfect for each other_. “... heh, it’s not like we’ve been goin’ out long, things were just _bacon_ -ning to _cook_ up, so i wasn’t gonna say anythin’ until i was sure it was a _thing_ , y’know?”

“... _Nyrrrrrrrrrgh_.” Papyrus muttered frustratedly and rolled his eyes at the wordplay before returning to his usual thunderous decibel levels. “-I SUPPOSE THAT LOGIC MAKES SENSE, BUT _STILL_! YOU COULD AT LEAST HAVE TOLD ME _SOMETHING_ BROTHER, I WOULD HAVE UNDERSTOOD IF IT WAS A TRIAL DATEMATESHIP AT LEAST TO START!”

“heh, sorry bro,” Sans half-heartedly offered as he drained the last of his coffee. _He wouldn’t have actually understood._ More likely, tried _harder_ to play wingman and make it all move faster. That would have been counterproductive, _best_ -case scenario.

Papyrus was none the wiser to Sans’ tepidness. “APOLOGY ACCEPTED! NOW THEN, SINCE I _DO_ KNOW OF IT NOW, YOU _MUST_ TELL ME ABOUT THEM! – … HER? … HIM? – WHICHEVER IT IS! AND _EAT YOUR BREAKFAST!_ ” he lectured with characteristic energy.

Sans shook his head laughingly as he used the side of his fork to cut into his fried eggs and thought up a rationale to feed Papyrus that would keep his enthusiasm in check. “... ‘she’ is on th’ shy side of life anyway, so i wanted t’ make extra sure before i said anythin’.” He lifted half of an egg to his mandible. “but i’ve got a good feeling about this one. bein’ shy aside, she seems cool with things a month later.”

“-SO YOU HAVE BEEN DATING FOR A MONTH? WELL, THAT’S YOUR LONGEST YET UP HERE, I GUESS. A GOOD SIGN INDEED!” Papyrus had already gobbled down his eggs and bacon, and was sweeping his toast through the leftover grease to soak it up. “IS SHE ANYBODY I KNOW?”

“heh, kinda doubt it,” Sans answered around his last bite of egg. “she’s human. met at grillby’s.”

“... HRMMM. I AM ALREADY WARY OF HER TASTE IN CULINARY INSTITUTIONS.” Papyrus peered at his brother suspiciously. “... HOW ARE HER STANDARDS FOR HUMOR?”

“oh, don’t worry, she yells at me for my puns about ‘s much as you do,” Sans joked before stuffing a strip of bacon into his maw.

“... HMMMMMM. WELL, I SUPPOSE SHE PASSES MUSTER FOR THE TIME BEING.” Papyrus held the fat-drenched bread to his mouth in preparation to bite into it. “-BUT YOU _DO_ REALIZE THIS MEANS THAT YOU WILL HAVE TO INTRODUCE US NOW! … SAY, DO YOU THINK SHE WOULD BE AVAILABLE FOR THE JULY-THE-FOURTH DINNER PARTY?”

“-dooon’t think so, bro. she’s shy, remember?” Sans reminded him. “if she’s free, i’ll probably pal around with just her.” One last bit of bacon and he, too, was mopping up the plate grease with his toast.

Papyrus looked absolutely torn. “... NYEH... ARE YOU SURE? – SHOULD I PERHAPS TAG ALONG WITH YOU, THEN?”

Sans cast his brother a purposefully plaintive look. “paps, don’t do that! ya finally get t’ see mettaton, right? don’t waste that chance, bro!” He took a large chunk out of his piece of toast, talking around his mouthful for the sake of time – not that it impeded his speech any. “if she an’ i _do_ meet up, we’ll be fine, alright? and if not...” He gulped – both out of fear, and for swallowing. “... if not, i’ll come with for that fancy-pants shindig. okay?”

The taller skeleton seemed cross for a second. “... WELL, ALL RIGHT THEN,” Papyrus finally relented. “-BUT YOU _HAVE_ TO PROMISE ME THAT AFTER THIS WEEK, YOU WILL MAKE INTRODUCTIONS BETWEEN US!”

Sans balked. _Would that make her uncomfortable?_ He tried to protest: “-bro, that might be too soo-”

“-PROMISE ME, SANS!”

“-paps, it’s only-”

“- _PROMISE!_ ”

… He knew that when Papyrus got in this sort of headspace, there was no talking him down. The only option left was to delay.

Sans let out a long, defeated sigh. “... alright, paps. i’ll talk t’ her about meetin’ ya.”

“-EXCELLENT! NOW, FINISH YOUR FOOD AND GO TO WORK!” Papyrus commanded him, bringing his own empty plate to the sink. “... I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD BE SAYING THIS, BUT YOUR SPACE-TIME JAPERY HAS COME IN HANDY FOR ALLOWING ME TO GET SOME NOURISHMENT INTO YOU BEFORE YOUR DAILY DEPARTURE!”

“heh, yep, you’re right bro.” Checking the time on his phone, he knew he was cutting it close, but _thank the stars for shortcutting, right?_ Having consumed his last bite of toast, Sans stood, grabbed his hoodie and a cap from near the door to their apartment, and shoved his feet into his sneakers without tying them – that much he could do after he’d clocked in. “alright, i’m off. seeya late tonight.”

His brother called back, “HAVE A GOOD DAY SANS! AND DO LET ME KNOW IF YOUR ALTERNATE PLANS FOR JULY-THE-FOURTH FALL THROUGH!”

“i’ll let ya know the second i know,” Sans told him, before his eye lit up and he was gone.

* * *

\- _r u free this saturday?_

Tabitha stared at the text message chain and its associated contact for the dozenth time today, debating whether to call Sans to find him. The city green didn’t have too many people yet at this late-morning hour, but it was a _huge_ field, and she hadn’t yet seen any sign of the blue hoodie she’d come to search for almost ~~automatically~~ _Stop that_.

She honestly felt a little silly standing there, a tote-style cooler over one shoulder and her purse over the other, wearing a tee-shirt-dress in navy and white stripes with a floppy straw hat and sunglasses. She had a pair of denim shorts on underneath for comfort and modesty – though still awkward in a different way, as she’d had to buy those (she’d picked up the hat then too – she’d need it, being out in the sun all day). It had been quite a while since she’d worn such things, or even since she’d had cause to get even _this_ dressed up.

Not that she did so for anyone else’s eyes – she simply figured it’d be thematic; white and blue, and the hat had a red ribbon bow on it so _that_ color was covered, it’d be a great ensemble for this dat-

 _Stop thinking about that stop thinking breathe_ Breathe.

… This was too ridiculous, and it was going to be a whole entire _day_ , maybe she should just leave _No you told Robyn you would you talked about this._

Also for the dozenth time today, Tabitha attempted to brace herself for what would be ahead.

 _Figures that the moment she began worrying about this stuff, her anxieties were decided for her the next morning._ She’d woken up early for her dentist appointment to see his text about July Fourth, and after a quick back-and-forth with Robyn to check on her own plans for the holiday (cookout with her family, now that her mom was fully settled in), she’d agreed to Sans’ suggestion of hanging out at the city’s annual “Independence Bash”, as they called it, for the day. It may have been his idea, but she all too readily took him up on it.

In all her years in Ebott City, she’d never been to their July Fourth festivities. The excuse before had been her studies, and the one after that (not hers) had been that it was “too plebeian”. But the live bands, the fresh air, the relaxed setting, the throngs of happy people – not to mention the classic guilty-pleasure foods – had long held an appeal to her from afar. 

_And the fireworks._ Up close, and _LOUD!_

In preparation for the daylong outing, she had packed her cooler with bottles of water and iced tea, plus cut-up carrots, celery, and watermelon. Healthy-ish. She and Sans had already decided over text that they would plan to get their actual meals from the vendors but save on drinks and snacks, and Tabitha had quickly offered to provide those things for the both of them. She was going to try to keep it balanced and sane as much as she could, but damn if she wasn’t going to binge on grease for her purchased food as much as her heart desired.

She would do her best to cut loose and have fun today. In more ways than one.

 _... Maybe it would help to have a moment more to herself._ She inhaled slowly, then exhaled through her mouth, clearing her thoughts and remembering all of Robyn’s guidance from throughout the week. _You have a strategy for today, you have a plan that will work regardless of the end result. Breathe. You’ll figure it out._

A flash of motion caught her eye. Tabitha twisted her head to see the floating and flowing rising, then falling, of a large flannel blanket being spread out on the lawn, and holding onto one edge of it-

Tabitha smiled and began walking towards him.

When she had gotten a lot closer, Sans looked up, spotting her. She first saw him smile his usual wide, warm, semi-permanent grin as he initially called out to her in greeting – before it faltered slightly, a deep royal color flushing into his cheekbones.

“-uh... y-ya look great,” he stammered with a hand on the back of his neck.

Despite herself, as evidenced by her own blush that she was trying to keep hidden, Tabitha was flattered at his expression. “... Th-thanks.”

“-h- _heh_ , uh, a-anyways.” Tabitha could see how he was _visibly_ fighting to choke down his thoughts, and a tiny corner of her heart felt _pride_ that she could invoke that in somebody. He purposefully looked to the side as he continued, “... so, uh, i was thinkin’...”

_-Wait. No. No need to think things like that. No one else matters. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t-_

“-tabs? hey, tabs, you alright?” Her vision refocused onto Sans’ concerned face in front of hers. “you, uh, zoned out for a minute there...”

Tabitha shook off the negative, swirling thoughts. _Remember what Robyn said. It’s okay to like this, it’s okay to be selfish here. Just give it a shot_. She did her best to not avert her eyes in fear when she looked back up at him. “... Yeah, I’m fine.”

He peered at her. “... ya sure?”

She nodded. “Yeah.” Her smirk came back, if uneasy. “... Guess we’re, um, both flustered today, huh?”

The blush shot back into his face at what must have been light-speed. A nervous whine barely escaped his (non-literal) throat as he tried to reply: “u-uh, n-no!, just, y-you’ve never worn a...! – uh, i-i-”

Tabitha giggled, then shook her head. “Hehe, no, it’s alright,” she told him, which seemed to calm him. She had to calm herself a little, too, before moving on. “... So, um, you were saying...?”

Sans coughed awkwardly. “-r-right! so, uh, i dunno how you feel about explorin’ the place a bit, or, uh, sittin’ for a while first, or...”

Her eyes quickly lit up. “-Exploring now sounds nice! That way, we can still have our pick of spots later, and not be walking around in the hottest part of the day.” Truthfully, though, she _very much wanted to see the sights here –_ that was the actual primary reason. “... Um, is there a place you wanna start first?” she offered anxiously.

“heh, i’m as new to this ‘s you are,” Sans admitted, fully at ease again. “this ‘s my first time here.”

Tabitha paused at that. “... It is? What’d you do last year?”

She did not miss the wistful, somewhat sad look that crossed his face. “heh, uh, well, we’d just surfaced two months before, so, uh, we stayed home. my brother ‘n i’s apartment ‘s on an upper floor, so we watched the fireworks from th’ window.”

A horrific thought crossed her mind. “- _Oh_! Oh gosh, I didn’t disrupt any plans you had with _your_ family, did I?! If I did it’s-”

“-no, no, ya didn’t, you’re fine,” he reassured her gently, causing her guilty sputtering to halt. “-heh, he had fancy plans with his own datemate. i’d rather be here. gotta say, this place looks pretty fun.” He stopped scanning the view of the tents and attractions to wink at her sideways. “’sides, the company’s not so bad, either.”

Tabitha rolled her eyes, but she was still chuckling. “Now, now. – So, um, should we start at all the tents over there, then?” she asked, eyes pointed at the site she was most excited to visit.

He followed her gaze, grinning wider. “sure, sounds good.” He gathered his blanket back up, and they headed off.

* * *

The tents turned out to host a wide range of vendors and activities – some local farms selling their summer products (the peaches were _extremely_ tempting, but those counted as a snack, and Tabitha had that covered already), a pie stand, a couple of artisan booths, balloon sculptures, face painting, and a fifty/fifty raffle – but the _most_ interesting was the small section of tents that had carnival games.

There were only a few – homemade and run by volunteers, not by a traveling company, but for what it was they had done a great job to make it look somewhat professional: a baseball throw, balloon darts, ring toss, bushel basket toss, and a pick-a-duck pool. It looked like great fun, but something stopped Tabitha from actually asking to try any of them. A nearly-parental caution wormed its way into her head: _Weren’t these things usually rigged?_ But then again, if these were volunteer-made, wouldn’t it be less likely...?

Sans caught her looking at the booths, and smirked at her indulgently. “ya wanna play?”

“... I dunno if I’d want any of the prizes,” Tabitha mused honestly. Looking at the offerings, which mostly consisted of candy or brightly-colored plastic chachkis, it all seemed much more geared for younger children.

Sans raised a brow despite still smiling. “nothin’ says ya can’t enjoy the game itself but give it back if you win anythin’, ya know.”

“... I guess that’s true.” Tabitha’s head turned to eye the ring toss they were standing next to – it was the one she had been most attracted by. She didn’t feel comfortable handling darts, and the baseball toss, with its stacks of heavy bottles, didn’t garner much interest.

Before she could suggest that they head to that booth, though, she noticed the caustic stare of the man behind the counter – a portly guy with black hair and a broad moustache, glowering not at _her_ , but at who she was with.

… _Oh_.

She promptly faced forward again to keep moving. “... Actually, maybe not.”

Sans was stunted by the abrupt change in attitude. “-huh? hey, it’s alright, if ya wanna try it it’s not a problem to m-” He’d followed where she was gazing before her new reaction, and he’d finally caught on. “... oh.”

The game operator narrowed his eyes, finally deigning to speak. “... Yeah, g’wan. Don’t want cheaters playin’ the games.”

“... ex _cuse_ me?” Sans answered, as the man had clearly been addressing him. Tabitha stopped short, watching the exchange, shrinking into herself as she felt her fingers begin to shake.

The man sneered. “Yeah, y’heard me, brute. Y’got magic, don’cha? Don’t want ya muckin’ up our work ‘ere.”

Tabitha saw Sans’ eyelights vanish, but the way his supraorbital ridges lowered as well was astronomically different from all the other times she’d seen that happen. It was _scary_ , almost.

Grimacing, Sans spoke under his breath: “keep walkin’ normally.”

She did as told, but she so desperately _hated_ hearing the vile laugh of the man behind them. “Hahaha!, yeah, g’wan, _git_. These games ‘re for _people_ , y’hear? Git goin’!”

His louder jeering after them as they fled made one of the other booth operators gasp in horror and march over, shrieking at him in a shrill voice. _Thank goodness._ Tabitha was thankful _somebody_ was handling it.

But she was still not comforted by the way Sans ground his teeth harder next to her as they left.

When they had gotten away enough from the vicinity of the booths, Tabitha finally spoke up: “... I’m r-really sorry. I-if you want, w-we can go.”

Sans halted, and Tabitha paused beside him. His eyes closed, inhaling and then exhaling slowly ( _did a being without lungs technically need to do that?_ ). When he looked back at her, his grin had returned, and so had his eyelights.

“... what, an’ miss the fireworks tonight?” He laughed. “heh, nah. if you’re good t’ stay, i’m good.”

“Th-there’s other places in the city to watch them,” Tabitha pointed out, still distressed from the encounter. “... Don’t you feel... I dunno, _unsafe_?”

“pssh, from _one_ racist? ‘sides, he’s already being taken to task,” he smirked, thumbing over his shoulder. And indeed, when Tabitha looked, a redheaded woman was chewing out the heavyset man, spittle nearly flying out of her mouth.

“y’don’t need t’ go on defense for me, i can handle it,” he continued. “... i mean, sure, i’m _upset_ about it, and it sucks, but i’m not gonna let one guy ruin my plans for the whole _day_.” He winked. “not when i’ve got a great girl t’ hang out with.”

The heat rose to Tabitha’s face before she could stop it, and she found herself staring at the grass in front of her feet instead of at him. She still had it in her to stammer, “A-are you sure?”

He chuckled. “seriously, don’t worry. it’s not my first rodeo with that crap, an’ it won’t be the last. i can deal. – say, all that walkin’s got me famished. ya up for lunch?”

She was equally eager for the blatant diversion, so Tabitha checked her phone (this dress had pockets, _hallelujah_ ) to find that it was already quarter of noon. She’d been up early that morning to prep the cooler, so it wasn’t a bad time to eat by any means. Composing herself, she answered: “... Yeah, sure!”

“heh, okay.” He searched ahead, identifying the various food vendors in the distance. “-looks like they’ve got barbecue, that’s what you’re supposed t’ eat today, right?”

Completely calmed again by his own level-headedness, Tabitha laughed. “Not necessarily! There’s a lot of things that are considered ‘traditional’ for the Fourth.” She stepped ahead, glancing back at him over her shoulder with a grin. “Let’s see what they have first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***SCREMS WITH THE ONSLAUGHT OF HABBENINGS AAAAAAaaaaaa***
> 
> -in which Papyrus is _still_ learning to cook  
> (don’t _ever_ take your sockets off of the stove, boyeeeeeeeeee)  
> lol some judgy Dance!Paps too~
> 
> whew, there is a veritable PARADE of hints sprinkled throughout here :D try and catch them all~~~
> 
> are you guys excited for what’s gonna happen?  
> … i know i am :)
> 
> sorry to make ya wait a week for it lol ;)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It had really impressed Tabitha how cool and collected he’d been about the situation at the carnival game booths. Anybody else she’d known would have reacted quite differently: likely yelling, or becoming argumentative or even _combative_ , however justified their urge to defend themselves would have been in such a case.
> 
> It made her wonder what else this man had been through to have learned to treat this with such serenity and grace.

“... i gotta admit, i didn’t expect to like these ‘s much as i do.”

Sans and Tabitha had found the spot where their blanket lay previous still unoccupied, and they were now sitting on it once more as they lunched on corndogs from the food vendors, plus some of the iced tea that Tabitha had brought. Sans had been skeptical of the corndogs at first, but when he’d asked Tabitha to describe them and she’d explained that they were essentially hot dogs but wrapped in cornbread instead of a bun, he’d decided to give it a try.

Tabitha responded to him with a smirk. “... I mean, you can put ketchup on them, what’s not to like?”

Sans snorted through his bite of condiment-slathered corndog. “- _hah!_ y’got me.” He finished his mouthful before saying anything else. “i can’t say they’re my favorite, but they’re not bad at all, and like ya said, they do have _that_ goin’ for ‘em.”

She smiled at him, carefully working a bite off the skewer so the rest of the treat wouldn’t collapse off of it. She noted with wonder how the sound of his voice hadn’t been muffled one bit by his chewing. _Did he speak via magic?_ It made sense, in hindsight – being a skeleton, he wouldn’t have vocal cords – but it was still a physiological marvel as far as Tabitha was concerned.

… Monsters really _were_ different.

It had really impressed Tabitha how cool and collected he’d been about the situation at the carnival game booths. With very few exceptions, anybody else she had known would have reacted to that stimulus quite differently: likely yelling, or becoming argumentative or even _combative_ , however justified their urge to defend themselves would have been in such a case.

And this guy had acknowledged his own disappointment and the unfairness of it all, but had otherwise brushed it off. Like the fight wasn’t _worth_ it.

It made her wonder what else this man had been through to have learned to treat this with such serenity and grace.

She was yanked back to the present by Sans asking, “so what else ya got ‘n here-” as he opened her cooler, then laughing. “... heh, bunny food. ya always got salad with dinner, i should’ve figured.”

“-Hey! I’m in the medical field, what did you expect from me?” she retorted with a wry expression.

Sans started laughing harder. “-heheh! alright, fair point.” Then he slanted an equally sly socket back at her. “... doesn’t explain th’ corndogs, though.”

“Oh, hush, just because I try to eat healthy doesn’t mean I don’t believe in _any_ fun.” She winked at him – a gross mockery of his own favorite gesture – as she peeked over the top of her sunglasses. “... I brought the healthy snacks so we – or, I, _could_ splurge on whatever else.”

His lids hooded, brows raised as he nodded. “... heh, i like the way ya think.”

“Hah, besides, otherwise I’d be a _real_ hypocrite to like ice cream as much as I do.” She replaced her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose as Sans chuckled at her self-own. “-Um, also, the watermelon’s frozen, so just, be warned.”

“-thanks. i’d noticed, though.” He instead grabbed the baggie of carrot sticks out of the cooler and re-zipped it.

As he settled back on his haunches, Tabitha drew her knees up to her chest, desperately wanting to know but not knowing if it was okay to ask.

Sans noticed her expression when he’d taken a stick out of the bag and looked up to pass the bag to her. “... somethin’ on your mind?”

… _She_ was _worried about it_. “... Um, you, uh, don’t have to answer, y’know, if you don’t want to,” she started, trying to figure out how she was going to word this, while taking the bag from him and placing it on the blanket next to her.

His face fell a little. “... ‘s this about earlier?”

Tabitha winced. “... Yeah. I mean – don’t get me wrong, I’m not worried about today anymore!, just...” She gulped. “... You said it wasn’t the first time?”

Sans closed his eyes with a long sigh. “... nah, it ain’t. but it got resolved okay every time. i’m _here_ , aren’t i?” He sharply chomped on the carrot stick through its middle.

… He didn’t seem to want to talk about it. Tabitha faced away, examining the grass at the side of the blanket instead. “... I’m sorry.”

“... tabs, it’s okay. ya don’t gotta worry about it.” He leaned closer to her, the better to make sure his message and his reassuring smile got across. “like i said, i can handle myself. haven’t had t’ fight yet, but...” He suddenly got quiet, staring at his untied high-tops. “... if i absolutely _have_ to, i can.”

… _He’d looked so sad as he said that._

It broke Tabitha’s heart to see him so nervous and resigned. But she _really_ wanted to keep talking to him, figure out what made him so calm and decisive. Especially after this apparent declaration that he wasn’t much for fighting.

So she sought to change the subject to something lighter. Before lifting what remained of her corndog to her mouth again, she asked him: “... So, like, if this had been any other day off or something, what would you have done, ideally?”

He was still chewing the last half of his carrot as he thought. “... a perfect day off, huh? … heh. more than likely, i’d sleep the whole day away.” His grin returned full-force, and it made Tabitha’s uneasy heart slow at last. “an’ if by some strange chance i’m _not_ sleepin’, i’d probably watch some science shows, maybe tinker with machines or electrical stuff at home.”

Tabitha shook her head as she giggled. “You really are an engineer, huh?”

“hey, can’t get into car work if ya don’t like the actual _work_. or any career, really.” He smiled back as he settled his elbows onto his pretzel-folded legs, fists on his cheekbones. “... whatabout you?”

It took a second to parse. “... Well, assuming that I don’t have anything on my to-do list?, I’d probably sleep in, then walk or run or enjoy the outdoors somehow; and _then_ I’d come home and drink wine and snuggle under the blankets on my couch. And there’s a reason the walk or whatever is sandwiched in there!” she added, grinning broadly. “To me, it makes the part at the end of the day feel _more_ restful, otherwise if I have any energy I don’t burn off it’s all bunk.”

He considered her words. “... huh. i can see that.” He nabbed the carrot bag from her to steal another.

… _Now_ Tabitha was intrigued. She’d first met him at a bar, after all, and that didn’t seem to gel with the answer she’d just gotten. “... So given the choice between a night in or a night on the town, which would you rather, then?” she asked.

He barked a laugh and answered with confidence: “night in, _definitely_.”

She carefully watched him. “... But you spend all that time at Grillby’s...?”

“eh, ’s just ‘cause grillby’s my old friend. i do _prefer_ being home, but... not, uh, alone, y’know?” Two carrot sticks went between his teeth this time. “-best case scenario ‘s me an’ a few other people who i’m close to... but still, it’s a comfy night in for me.” He chewed for a moment. “’least that bar’s familiar t’ me.”

… Huh. “... That makes sense.” Her smile reappeared. “I’m the same way. I’d rather curl up on my couch for the most part.”

His face was far too mischievous. “... an’ watch tv?”

“-Hey, not an insult if I’m not offended.” She stuck her tongue out at him impishly (to which he laughed again) before working the very last bit of corndog off of her skewer and bundling up the spent wooden stick in the napkins she’d grabbed for later disposal.

She couldn’t help thinking to herself that, hey, these questions were turning out to be kind of _fun_. … _Is this what Robyn had meant earlier by talking about stuff...?_

… Well, as long as he was willing to keep answering them, it’d be a great way to pass the time until the fireworks that night. Plus, they’d still get to hold onto their spot on the lawn (and perhaps more importantly, not come anywhere _near_ the racist idiot at the booths again).

She beamed as she finally grabbed her first carrot stick from the bag. “... Okay, so, let’s say you win a million dollars. What do you do with it?”

* * *

Sans couldn’t help but wonder at how Tabitha was so _full_ of questions today.

Most of their past conversation had consisted of her responding to his jokes or such, and it piqued his curiosity that _she_ was the one initiating things now. They’d all been icebreaker-style questions, so he’d been happy to indulge: aside from the classic lottery question, she’d also asked about spending versus saving habits (to which he joked that he was a saver, except on ketchup!, and she’d answered that she saved but not so strictly as to prevent herself from having fun, which made sense given her food preferences that he’d learned about), whether he lived to work or worked to live (work to live, obviously, because what’s the whole point if you can’t spend time with the people you care about?! – and he was pleased to hear she was much the same), and if he was more of an early-to-bed or late-to-rise kind of guy (the latter, for sure; but _she_ had answered that she was only the former for circadian-rhythm-slash-work reasons, and would engage in both sides of the equation in a heartbeat, and _stars_ but based on that last part he didn’t think he could like her any more than he already did).

In fact, all of her own answers to the questions she’d asked gave him a whole bunch of optimism for how a more serious relationship between them might work out. He just hoped she felt the same way.

As for how she was feeling right _now_ , though... Sans knew she couldn’t be thinking all that hard about their getting-to-know-yous, at the moment. Not judging by the way she lay back limply on the blanket, using her hat to fan her face, already having eaten more than her fair share of frozen watermelon.

He looked up at the sky, thankful that his bodily processes were largely magic and that looking at the sun briefly wouldn’t blind him the way it would other monsters or humans. It _was_ past its peak altitude. It must have been the hottest part of the day by this point, even if he couldn’t much tell himself – though even he had to admit that, with his jacket on, it felt a bit warm.

Sans leaned over from where he sat next to her, not enough to touch her but enough to observe her face for signs of medical distress from the heat (she had none, thankfully). He commented, “... ya look ready t’ _melt_ over there.”

She groaned lowly. “Tell me about it.” Her gaze strayed to the cloudless atmosphere momentarily. “... _Nnnhhhh_. There’s not even any chance for _shade_.”

He surveyed the area around them carefully. Their blanket had become well surrounded by others’ at this point, with only a two-foot span left between them for travel purposes; and each one was fully occupied by their respective human families, all of whom looked greatly overheated as well. But it also occurred to him that the average person who would arrive later on would not think to look amongst the sea of blankets and people for a spot for themselves, and instead gravitate towards the still-free patches of lawn, closer to the tent-and-platforms that served as a bandstand.

So he replied, lying past the fact that the heat didn’t particularly _harm_ him: “... yeah. … i can’t believe i’m sayin’ this, and i know we weren’t gonna buy outside snacks, but i’m startin’ to think ice cream would help _me_ out, too.”

The expression on her face transcended joy, ascending higher than the highest of hopes, before crashing back down to dejection and guilt. “... I mean, we don’t _have_ to...”

 _He couldn’t stand to see that guilt on her face_.

“-sure we can. ya can’t always plan for these sortsa things, right?” He smiled, hoping to put her mind to rest and convince her to allow herself the indulgence. “... it’s gotta be hotter than the forecast for today,” he tacked on, pulling his phone out to check the weather.

She seemed to untense, but she still let him verify it, fanning herself slowly. He wasn’t expecting his bluff to pan out, but it did, and he informed her truthfully, “-yeah, high nineties, ten degrees hotter than they thought it’d be.” He put his phone away. “... i think our blanket’s gonna be safe at this point, so, ya wanna leave the cooler here an’ go an’ come back?”

She nodded, the movement loose and lazy, and raggedly raised herself on her elbows, before sitting up and crossing her legs under her to stand. Sans had already stood up by then, watching her in case she needed help on the way up.

When she did not, he began to lead the way through the maze of blankets and grass, with her following closely behind until they’d made it safely past the throngs of people and had ample space to walk side-by-side again.

He felt best with her there, by his arm. _Safe_. Not for himself, but for _her_ , because that way he could keep an eye out for her. Knowing she’d been through... _whatever_ -it-was, made him want to make sure she would only feel happiness and comfort, with him around; would never feel the need to check over her shoulder constantly, or second-guess everything around her. _Not like how he did, nowadays._ Unlike for him, unlike for her before, he’d _prote_ -

-Halfway across the empty grass to the food trailers, Sans was jerked violently out of his contemplations by the sensation of _something_ brushing up against his fingers.

After stilling his still-jumping SOUL, he glanced down – only to see that it had been the outside of Tabitha’s hand that had made contact with his own. As if his bones hadn’t seemed unnaturally warm enough already, his zygomatic arches now felt downright _boiling_.

He tried to ignore it, looking away to hide the blush he knew he was sporting. _Stars he wanted to, he wanted to_ so bad _, but he wouldn’t cross her limits, he_ wouldn’t _, he couldn’t afford to intimidate her, that was the last thing he wanted to do when things were going so well._ He resolved to pretend it hadn’t happened, lest he do something he’d regret.

… After a bit, though, he felt the touch on his hand again.

This time, he turned back faster, taking a closer view.

… _She was purposefully holding her hand near his_. What’s more, her own face was flushed, possibly more than his was.

And it wasn’t the heat, either. He had seen how red her cheeks were back at their spot on the grass, and they were all the ruddier now – extending all the way down to her square-ish jaw and up to just before her rich brown eyes.

The _shyness_ and _embarrassment_ and _hope_ flowed off of her much how the tides rolled onto the beach, and Sans felt his widened sockets and beaming mouth grow tremendously.

_Could he...?_

… Wordlessly, he reached out and gently took her hand in his phalanges, rubbing his thumb carefully along hers for her comfort.

In his peripheral vision, he saw her pull her other hand up _shy shy shy_ and bring her knuckles to her lips, as if to disguise them – but _she did not let go_ , and Sans thought that if he became any more elated he would start floating away like the balloon animals that he had seen several children holding.

 _The way their fingers intertwined together fit so well, it was so damn perfect, this moment couldn’t be any more perfect_. But alas, he knew he had to keep himself together. _Don’t scare her off now, dammit._

He made neither comment nor any other motion than to hold her hand and continue to approach the soft-serve trailer he had spotted earlier.

Other people seemed to have had the same idea as they did, as they had to wait behind a few people in line – but it was only a few, as Sans noted, and in fact they had seemed to beat the rush, as the line grew exponentially behind them. No matter; Sans was perfectly fine being patient, as long as he could keep holding Tabitha’s hand calmly in his the whole while ~~holy shit he was~~ ~~ _so fucking happy_~~ ~~to be doing this, that she even felt~~ ~~ _safe_~~ ~~enough to do this with him, but dammit he couldn’t let on how fucking ecstatic he was so he didn’t overstep her boundaries~~ , and luckily she seemed perfectly fine to do the same.

When it was their turn, he gave her hand a soft squeeze ~~he didn’t want to let go but he unfortunately had to~~ before releasing it, and addressed the gray-haired, tee-shirted lady at the window: “hey, ya out of anythin’ yet?”

“Nope, we still got everythin’,” she answered with a good-natured smile. “-Vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry, and you can get a twist of any two of ‘em.”

“-alright, thanks.” He shifted his skull slightly to look at Tabitha, using a voice that was quiet, tender. “ya know what ya want?”

She’d already pulled some bills out of her purse, and she nodded towards the woman. “Strawberry-chocolate please.”

The woman nodded back. “One strawberry-choco twist. And for you, sir?”

- _Phew_. He grinned, taking a short second to decide. _… Eh, let’s live a little_. “vanilla-chocolate twist for me, thanks.”

She punched some buttons on her cash register and accepted Tabitha’s, then Sans’ payments. By the time she was done ringing them up, one of the teens behind her had already doled their orders into sugar cones, and she passed them to the woman, who in turn passed them to Sans and Tabitha. “Thanks a lot folks, have a ‘cool’ day!” the woman told them.

He chuckled at the unexpected kindred spirit. “have a n- _ice_ day yourself!” he lobbed back as they faced away, and he heard the vendor giggle behind them before greeting her next customer.

Sans whistled at how high the soft-serve had been piled on their cones, twisting a good five inches tall, almost. He observed Tabitha take her first bite off of the top. “... so, how is it?”

“... It’s good.” She wasn’t reaching for his hand again just yet, needing to use both to manage the top-heavy treat. “... Thank you.”

“...heh, don’t thank me, ‘s too hot t’ do otherwise.” He tasted his own, and he had to agree – for soft serve, it was quite delicious. He elected to pause and lick some more off the top for easier balancing before having to navigate the blankets again, and Tabitha followed suit.

He only prayed that she’d be willing to return to their previous gesture once their hands were no longer occupied by the ice cream.

* * *

It surprised Tabitha how little time seemed to pass before the sun was already setting.

In those short four hours, they’d dozed off the summer heat, then eaten dinner while listening to the bands perform – first some rock-cover bands, then a volunteer wind ensemble playing the classics “Stars and Stripes Forever” and “1812 Overture”, plus a patriotic medley in-between. Sans had kept Tabitha in stitches with his commentary on the ensemble music – “heh, don’t they know the 1812 isn’t even _american_?” and his sarcastically-delivered resolution of “ohhhh _righhhht_... it’s because of the _cannons_.” It wasn’t just his knowledge of the history of the music that impressed her, though – during the rock bands’ stints on stage, he’d tapped his outstretched foot and hummed along with some of the songs, and his pitch somehow seemed even _better_ than the guitarists’.

Something she should have predicted, given what she knew of monster culture.

At one point during the cover music, she’d snuck her hand back towards his, watching for his reaction even as her own motions were hesitant and guarded. She had been relieved earlier that he had reciprocated it so readily, but Robyn had also coached her to gauge his own response, and she had been too busy being bashful to do so the first go-around.

This time, Tabitha had noticed how he’d perceived her movements out of the periphery of his socket, and then, without saying anything, closed the distance with his own phalanges to lace them between her fingers, palms-down on the flannel blanket. She didn’t miss the flash of blue that crossed his cheekbones, either – the one that he must have been attempting to hide, judging by how he wouldn’t look straight at her, despite how impossibly obvious the tinge on his face was.

Her gaze going past his skull, cap on and hood down, she couldn’t help but compare the color to the scenery behind him – that blush was _beautiful_ , the deep sapphire of the sky on a perfectly sunny day, not near to the horizon where it lightened to the imperceptibly greener shades of cyan, but towards the zenith where it was tinted the same yet strayed and shifted bluer still, a perfect azure that made you feel suspended at the highest of dizzying heights and would never let you come crashing back down to Earth again if it could help it.

_She wanted to see his face so badly, even as she knew he was just as shy about this as herself._

_What if it was telling of his feelings?_

… Tabitha honestly didn’t know if she was scared by that, or if it made her want to see it more.

For once curiosity was overtaking her, instead of the fear that had dictated their encounters to date. _As well as her life entire_. Given his perfect calm in the earlier situation, given how unassuming he seemed towards this trial on her part – not that he knew it was, and besides, it was as much a test of her own readiness as much as it was for him –

 _Blushes are hard to control_.

… Maybe it all would be okay?

All throughout the day today – heck, throughout the past month-plus – Sans was sweet, easy to be around, unhurried and relaxed. _Wonderful_.

Anyone else she’d known in the past was always self-assured and friendly at first flush, always on-the-go, always looking forward but ultimately never checking or caring to see what was left in their dust.

She’d thought she’d wanted that strong assurance, once, before she knew the truth.

He, on the other hand, had never pushed or rushed her, never asked more than she was willing to give, had always put her comfort first. Even _before_ he knew she had baggage, come to think of it – when he’d first given her his number, he’d only been too accepting of her reasons, without challenge. The response had surprised her, back then – but even since that night, the only surprises he’d ever caught her off guard with were _good_ ones.

Like today, in the face of fire, with an antagonist before him.

_How could somebody be like that?_

As she watched the sun slowly descend past the horizon with him, hand in hand, she vowed to find out.

She only broke their mutual hold once the flaming orange ball of the sun had dipped below the tree-dotted skyline, and it was with great reluctance – but it was starting to be _that time_ of the day, and she had already seen a few flitting about, waiting for a potential victim to let their attention go astray. _Like Hell she was going to have this evening ruined by mosquito bites_.

Sans looked over, deflated, only to see Tabitha stretch towards a miniature canister that had been attached via carabiner to her cooler’s strap. His expression changed to one of interest. “... what’s up?”

“-Mosquito repellent.” Unclipping the spray-can from its holder, she gave the container a healthy shake before turning away from Sans to coat her exposed legs, feet, and arms.

Sans waved his phalanges in front of his nasal opening. “... jeeeeeeeeez, that stuff stinks!”

“Well, _some_ of us have to worry about bug bites,” Tabitha joked unapologetically as she finished applying the spray on her skin. “... I mean, something tells me that mosquitoes aren’t fond of chewing through periosteum.”

He chuckled in return. “ _ech_ , fine, they’re probably not. even _if_ i have marrow they’d want, heh.”

“I could give you a little, if you want some,” Tabitha threatened in an innocuous, sing-song voice, aiming the sprayer in his direction. “You gotta protect yourself~!”

Sans threw his hands up and leaned away, laughing all the more. “ _hahahaha_ , nope, no thanks!”

“- _Good!_ It stunk enough going on _me_.” She clicked the canister back into its holder on her cooler’s shoulder-strap. “... The worst of the smell will blow off in the wind in a minute. It usually does.”

He was still snickering from their shared antics. “-hheh, good t’ know.” Collecting himself at last, he folded his hands into his lap, his knees raised slightly as he stared up at the darkening sky.

A goofy smile settled itself upon her face. _It was so good to have fun and not_ care _like this._

… _She’d never felt able to do that before_.

In the past, she couldn’t even bring herself to get past the phantom sensation of eyes burning on her back for acting childishly, even if it was just temporary, for humor’s sake. And just now, the self-conscious reaction had been so delayed as to let her feel the glee and silliness of the moment at full strength.

Her mind instantly fell quiet as she realized with a jolt – Robyn may have softened her up to start, but _Sans was the first she had felt so free around in a long, long time_.

It profoundly _frightened_ her, made her skin crawl. Keeping others at a distance had forever been her preferred method of protecting herself – even if they had _seemed_ nice, they’d never turned out that way, and she was determined to never be tricked like that again. Thus she’d never sought to get close to anyone, always pulling away instead.

_Why did she not want that in this case?_

This was so different. This was _too_ different. She was afraid, it was too much, she _knew_ it was better to not risk it, to not get hurt, to not expect certainty from _anybody_ -

- _She was so lonely._

And he was the first in a very, very long time to make her feel _not_ that way.

Always listening and respectful, never demanding; laid-back, sensible, carefree, and so, so _warm_. Even when it was through emotive responses and not through words, he hadn’t once held back how he felt.

… _When was she going to start trusting her own eyes?_

Tabitha decided that she was sick and tired of her wounds commanding her future, of her heart being unable to believe the present signs despite there not being anywhere even remotely close to the things she should have been watching out for years ago. Robyn had been trying so hard to remind her over the past few weeks that she couldn’t control anything in advance, but that the second anything _did_ happen that she could spot it and act on it – and she hadn’t seen anything to discourage her yet, had only spotted _good_ so far.

In her pain, she had always treated others as “guilty until proven innocent.”

Maybe, at least in this case, it was time to change that.

-She was startled out of her thoughts by Sans’ excited exclamation: “-oh! the planets ‘re startin’ to come out!”

Tabitha lifted her head to where he was looking, and there they were, two large points of light so bright that they even stood out amongst the still-orange tinge at the horizon. They looked like stars, almost; but stars didn’t usually stick out against the brightness of a sunset like this, did they?

“-looks like jupiter and saturn,” he commented, leaning back onto his palms that had been placed behind him. “... _maaaan_ , that’s pretty neat, how they’re so close together like that. … too bad the smoke from the fireworks ‘s gonna obscure them for the rest of th’ night after.”

 _She might have mistaken them for stars herself if he weren’t there to say differently_. Tabitha hugged her knees and smiled at him. “... You’re big on stargazing, huh?”

“heh, you bet. one of my favorites.” His sockets hadn’t yet left the sky.

… That shouldn’t have been so surprising to her. Underground, he would never have been able to see real stars – even the sun or moon. Such a sight must be so _significant_ to him.

But what struck Tabitha even more was his pure, unrestrained _happiness_ at the display, something he couldn’t have concealed even if he’d wanted to; at how perfectly tranquil and restful he was right now, not a trace of tension in his frame. _Unhidden, natural, free._

_He looked so cute and happy and peaceful and-_

_Warm_

“-Um, Sans?”

“... hm?” Sans answered, at last turning to look at her – but there were still traces of that purest _joy_ on his face, and it was _so, so beautiful._

Tabitha gulped. “... C-can I...”

“... can ya what?”

… _She was done denying herself_. With a motion so impulsive and sudden that it was too fast for her more rational side to notice and put an end to it, Tabitha released her knees, moved her hands next to him and braced her weight, and leaned in.

She wasn’t expecting her lips to meet bare, smooth teeth – although, knowing his unique structure, she should have predicted this, in hindsight. And she _did_ expect him to stiffen momentarily, in surprise.

She _less_ expected his relaxing just as quickly before leaning back into her and closing one hand behind her head.

But it was far from unwelcome.

After a split second he deepened the kiss a bit, raw emotion spilling out from him into something impossibly soft and slow and sweet. The warm and firm press of their mouths became interspersed with moments of lips and teeth parting to gasp slightly, little pulls and tiny gaps of space barely visible to the naked eye that lured them right back to one another with the drag of air of them breathing each other in. In between presses, he let out small moans so quiet they trailed into the barest whispers, which only she could hear.

A surge of bliss washed over her skin, making her feel cool despite there being no breeze. Sans used his palm on her hair to tilt her head below his. He caressed his thumb gently along her scalp as he went, stroking with all of the tenderness one might use to handle fine glass art, and the feather-like touch sent fluttering shudders into her ribcage and a euphoric fog into her brain.

Despite the many blankets and families surrounding them, for once she didn’t care. The emerging planets and stars in the darkness above them were all the witness she needed to this perfection.

-Until bright flashing lights through their closed lids and thunderous booms interrupted the fireworks between them, jerking them both away from each other and snapping their eyes open.

Tabitha had the briefest glance into his face this close-up, his sockets empty from shock, before both of them turned to check the disturbance, only to see luminous sparklers and shimmery orbs exploding in the air, sending out such percussive sounds with each burst that they reverberated in her chest.

“-oh, _wow!_ ” Sans had the biggest grin on his face she had seen all day long as he stared up at the unfolding pyrotechnic display. “... they’re so much more amazin’ up close...”

And she had to agree. She giggled, twisting one shoulder away but leaving one where it was to lean into Sans’ side. He returned that, too, letting his skull fall slowly to cover the top of her own head, which came to rest on the shoulder of his hoodie.

They stayed like that for the rest of the fireworks show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA  
> the awkward children are making progressssssssssssssssssss  
> <3 <3 <3
> 
> and for the record: both Sans and Tabitha’s answer to the lottery question is to make sure the folks they care about are taken care of, and then travel (remember, Sans is trying to figure out what’s out there for him on the Surface now!).
> 
> -there’s still plenty more development to go, folks!  
> see you next week with the next installment :3


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tabitha ran over her apartment one last time to make sure everything was in place. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly out from pursed lips as she straightened her ponytail. Tonight would tell a lot about how this might work.
> 
> All she had to do was just watch for his answers, and his emotional reactions, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sing-song* DTR, DTR~~
> 
> -whup Sansy cowboy sloooooow down, reign it in now, you’ve got a ways ~~and a whole date~~ to go still
> 
> see you next week peeps~

Sans hadn’t wanted the night to end that July Fourth. It was unfortunately inevitable that once the fireworks had finished, Tabitha would have to make it back to her car before she got caught up in the rush of traffic (if she weren’t so nervous in general he would have considered introducing her to at least the shortcut portion of his magic by now), and she’d offered him one last drink before she took her cooler with her and they shared one last squeeze of their hands and she’d headed off, leaving him to fold up his blanket and go. _Stars, if only she hadn’t had to._ Even the incident earlier on couldn’t put a dent in the day he’d had. That one-off racist could go to Hell for all he cared. To him, the day with Tabitha had been nothing short of heaven itself.

Which is why he was surprised at how much _more_ elated he felt when he got a text from Tabitha the very next day, asking if he was free on Wednesday evening for dinner at her place.

He’d been planning on letting her send the next text, much as it would kill him to wait, so as to not seem too forward or eager ~~even though she had been the one to initiate that kiss, holy shit he would not have predicted that in a million years but fucking stars was it~~ ~~ _fantastic_~~. What fortune that he didn’t have to spend long stewing over that in the end.

… Now to stew until Wednesday.

He had the day off today – even if it weren’t the holiday weekend, the shop was normally closed Sundays regardless – and he knew deep in his bones that he would be an absolute wreck without work or _something_ to absorb himself in or distract him. Sleeping the day away would likely not provide much respite here, either.

So he did the only thing any sane, reasonable man would do in his situation.

He went to the bar.

Only and ever Grillby’s, of course. Papyrus would blow a gasket or five if Sans ever escaped to anyplace else, that wouldn’t have the backstory and wouldn’t keep a trained eye on his intake. Not that Sans ever had interest in going elsewhere; there was a comfort for him to be found both in routine and in knowing his environment backwards and forwards, and in what little time one of his last few friends regularly made for him.

Uncharacteristically, Papyrus was still sleeping off his own late night with his datemate, so after waking up at his usual belated hour of a Sunday, Sans was able to sneak off without consequence (though he did leave a sticky note) at the exact time the bar opened for the day.

Appearing in the alleyway behind the brick building, he sauntered to the front and let himself in at the door, which the waitress who had just unlocked it was still walking away from. She didn’t even flinch at the jingling bell behind her – his arrival on Sundays was clockwork like that.

But it hadn’t been lately, had it? _And it might even be less so, now._

Sans was pleased to note that the harder, more clubby music hadn’t been started up yet, as per standard – Grillby liked to keep it closer to his own genre, less steeped in heavy bass and pounding beats, this early before the actual drinking hours began. _No undue SOUL temptation for the time being_. He made tracks to his designated stool and, true to form, Grillby was in front of him in mere moments.

The fire monster grinned broadly at his friend. _‘Well? How was your Fourth?’_

Sans chuckled. He had still been coming to Grillby’s every evening he wasn’t with Tabitha, and although he of course never went into gross detail, he had kept his friend up to date on the general progress of things.

Today he closed all his phalanges on one hand except for his thumb, raising it to eye-level as he flashed a brilliant smile. “two words: _first base_.”

Grillby rested his head on one of his hands, glowing a touch brighter. _‘-Well, well. Had our first kiss, did we? – That seems somewhat fast.’_

“-hey, in my defense, she started it.” Sans gave off a wink. “still don’t have any idea what did it, but hey, here we are.”

 _‘... Well, you know what they say in the scientific domain.’_ Grillby turned away to get back to glass-cleaning. _‘A good experiment must have repeatable results._ ’

“-ha!” Sans barked out, before his features fell. “... er, on that note, now we’ve got a bigger problem.”

Grillby paused mid-reach, looking back at Sans. _‘... ‘A bigger problem’?’_

“in a sense,” Sans explained, before elaborating: “... she’s invited me t’ hers wednesday night.”

His old friend came right back to his side, at least opposite the bar counter. _‘... Oh. That_ is _a quandry.’_

“ohhhhhh yeah.” Sans nabbed a stirrer from one of the containers nearby and began fiddling with it in his fingers.

Grillby noticed the anxious gesture. _‘... Did she mention anything about plans?’_

“nope. not a word.” He was bending the plastic length now, curling and winding it around a proximal phalanx. “haven’t heard back from her since i accepted. but ‘s her day off an’ it’s still early, she’s prob’ly in the middle of somethin’.”

 _‘-Yes, most likely. At least you are trying to keep a level head over this.’_ He observed the skeleton’s hands trembling as he tied a knot in the middle of the softened stirrer. _‘... Emphasis on ‘trying’.’_

Pulling the loop tight, Sans began forming another. “... eh. more like ‘tryin’ t’ not lose what little sanity i’ve got left’. … … _i’m so fuckin’ nervous_.” The last part he nearly whispered, a volume that only Grillby would be able to hear.

 _‘... Well, first of all, slow breaths,’_ Grillby coached, leaning closer for privacy.

“already doin’ that,” Sans huffed out.

 _‘-And second, release your expectations,’_ Grillby continued, his voice traveling someplace more stern and advising. _‘Do not make any assumptions about what you will do while there or what it means. Continue to let her lead.’_

Sans started in curt offense: “- _stars_ pal, i know _that_ much! whaddya take me for...?”

 _‘-Someone who is letting their mind run wild ahead of them.’_ Grillby smiled knowingly. _‘I did not intend that in the sense that I believed you might violate her trust. I know you better than that. No, in this case I am trying to tell you to simply put all ideas of the meaning of this as far away from you as possible, because you_ cannot _know, you_ cannot _predict, and therefore it is pointless to worry about or plan for.’_

Sans stopped, considering his friend's words. “... you’ve got a point,” he grudgingly admitted. _He’d gotten so ahead of himself he’d nearly forgotten his own protocol for all of this_.

Grillby beamed. _‘I do like hearing how frequently I am correct, even if I already know I am.’_

Sans’ eyelights rolled in his sockets, but it was accompanied by an amused grin. “ha, ha.”

 _‘That’s the spirit.’_ Grillby found another glass to polish. _‘Now. What can I get for you?’_

“howzabout some of that lemonade?” Sans asked.

 _‘-We sold clean out of that last night, I’m afraid.’_ Grillby kept polishing as he spoke. _‘We are already in the process of making more, but it will be some time before it is ready.’_

“... heh, went fast in the hot weather, huh?” Sans guessed with a sly wink.

Grillby snorted. _‘Yes, that, plus a lot of patrons felt understandably celebratory.’_

“heh, makes sense. i’ll wait then, no skin off my back.” Sans grinned wider at his friend, dropping the now thrice-knotted stirrer to the counter. “so, how was _your_ fourth of july?”

* * *

Tabitha ran over her apartment one last time to make sure everything was in place. _Glasses, bottle, opener, check. Papers and writing utensils, check. Couch neat and bathroom and kitchen clean and phone safely in sweatpants pocket, check._

She’d been discussing daily with Robyn both the end results of their holiday date and her next steps for the future, how to proceed going forward. Between bouts of advice-giving, Robyn had been so emphatically proud of her friend, giving her a hug tight enough to crack her spine upon first seeing her in person, when she arrived to work that Monday. As validated as she was by the congratulatory offerings, Tabitha continued to keep in mind the real reason she was doing all of this.

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly out from pursed lips as she straightened her ponytail. _Tonight would tell a lot about_ ~~ _if_~~ _how this might work._

All she had to do was just watch for his answers, and his emotional reactions, too.

Tabitha glanced up at the kitchen wall clock: _6:30_. That was when they’d agreed to meet. She didn’t need to worry about commuting, since it was her day off, but she knew he’d still be getting out of work at 5:30, and that would give him plenty of time to change gears ( _heh_ ) before coming over.

Less than a second of contemplating this, and her buzzer to the front entry went off.

She stepped up to the receiver by the door to her actual unit, pressing the button that let her speak through it: “Hello?”

“-heya!” came the familiar voice, made tinny and hissy by the communication system’s static.

“-Hey Sans!” Tabitha called back, smiling to herself. “I’ll let you in. Apartment 3C, okay?”

“gotcha,” Sans’ voice replied. “seeya soon, tabs.”

She didn’t bother answering, except by instead pressing the button that unlocked the downstairs door so that he could make his way into the building.

- _This was it_. She attempted to calm her racing heart – not that she expected it much to succeed, at least until he was in front of her and she could better observe him and put her fears to rest. Tabitha smoothed her hair one last time out of habit – it didn’t really need any more work, but the fidgeting helped – and paced towards the kitchen to waste time, figuring that the doorbell would likely ring on her return trip.

And correct she was. At the pleasant tone, she strode the rest of the way to her door, double-checking the peephole to be extra sure.

 _Yup, it was him_. Blue hoodie, baseball hat, and easy smile all.

Tabitha released the breath she’d been holding, allowing the exhale to relax her face muscles into a happy grin, and unlocked the door.

She could have sworn her grin went bigger the same way his did at the first sight of him without anything else intervening. “-hey! how are ya?”

 _There was no way her grin was this genuine, nope, not this soon_. “Hey! I’m great, you? – Come in, um, just leave your shoes by the door, alright?”

“heh, we’ve got the same rule at my place.” Sans dutifully kicked off his blue high-tops (had he always worn those as well, like his hoodie? Or was it just most of the time?) and nudged them over near her own row of shoes with a socked foot. “my bro’s kinda insistent. speakin’ of places, yours ‘s pretty nice,” he stated, glancing about the living room.

“Thanks,” she answered politely, before getting down to business. _That business_. “-So, um, I hope you don’t mind if we chat for a bit first before we chill after? – On the couch, wherever in here’s fine,” she directed him.

Sans eyed the elegant wooden coffee table by the gray fabric sectional, his sockets slitting with interest. “... heh, wine? looks like you’ve got quite th’ conversation planned,” he teased.

“Since when _hasn’t_ wine been part of our dinner-and-a-chats?” Tabitha playfully retorted, stepping to the side to let him have first pick of seats.

“heheh, well, don’t mind if i do, then.” He picked the corner closest to the door, leaning back on the high armrest and pillows. Tabitha went towards the corresponding opposite bend in the couch, clandestinely nabbing something out of her pocket and sneaking it into the arrangement of pillows there while he was still settling in.

When he was done, she looked an him with an uneasy expression. “... Um, don’t be _too_ concerned, but, um, this is gonna be pretty serious, so... if you wanna use the bathroom or anything first, I’d do that.”

One corner of Sans’ grin still tugged upward as he tried to smile reassuringly, one elbow draped casually over the armrest. “heh, nah, that’s not a need i have. low physicality, remember?”

Tabitha stiffened. _Shit_. “-Yeah, I know, but, well – I just wanted to check, y’know?”

His sockets hooded. “it’s fine, tabs. nothin’ wrong with checkin’. ya didn’t know yet, anyways.”

 _He’d somehow not taken offense to her offer._ God, if she was going to trip all over herself just playing hostess here...

She carefully leaned back into the couch pillows and began wringing her hands in her lap. “... O-okay. So, um. I’ll start then.” _How to get this going the right way..._ “... Um, first off... I had a _wonderful_ time on Saturday.”

- _How was it possible for his expression to be even_ more _gentle?_ His eyelights never left her once. “... so did i.”

She swallowed and continued. Big-question time. “... So, I, um, hope it’s okay if we... talk about where things have been going? And, um... what happens next.”

Sans nodded intently. His face turned more serious, listening. “so, ya wanna check in and revisit things? that’s perfectly fine with me.”

She nodded and thumbed at the old mini-mace sprayer hidden behind the pillow at her back that she’d gotten years ago.

Despite her decision, her promise to herself, that she was going to move forward with a little more trust on the front end – inviting this guy, _any_ new person, into her own home was a big step for her. Her history guided her to be prepared for the worst, even as she strived to anticipate good.

The sprayer on hand and her phone on her person gave her anxiety the lifeline it needed.

He showed no signs of minding or even noticing her gesture, so Tabitha did her best to exhale her nerves quietly. “-It’s, um, nice things, I think. Not, uh, ‘all clear’ yet, so to speak, but, um...”

“... i gotcha, tabs.” He sat up, leaning onto his femurs with another assuring smile. “start wherever you’d like.”

Another clearing breath. _He was being as attentive as he’d ever been._ She tried to let herself feel good about this.

 _Breathe_.

… She finally began, for real:

“... First of all, thank you, for being so nice and respectful so far. And patient. Especially whenever I had an anxiety spike.” Her hands were back in her lap, rubbing each other tightly. “And, um, thanks for not making a big deal of those, either.”

At his solemn nod, she continued.

“I... I really appreciate the effort you’ve gone to, for this. It’s really... _really_ helped. And...” She paused, swallowing again. “-I mean, it’s not gonna be... y’know. Easy. But...” _This is it. See what he says._ “... I feel like... I’m ready to... try... more?”

Sans nodded. _Zero assumptions, zero expectations._ “okay, ‘more.’ how so?”

Tabitha struggled with her brain. “Like... you, um. You’ve... been really considerate of, uh, what I’ve asked. And, um. Y-you know, it’s gonna be b-baby steps, probably. But, um.” … She finally let off an uneasy chuckle as she gave up. “... Uhg, it’s hard to put into words. … Sorry.”

He only too forgivingly nodded back, thinking over her words. “... sounds like...” He looked back up at her. “... so, ya wanna keep doin’ what we’re doin’? with the pacing an’ stuff?”

She deliberated for a second. “... Yeah, I guess that’s a good way of putting it. And. Um, like.” Tabitha’s hands were beginning to appear a bit raw now. “I mean, um, I know _I_ was the one to, um, go further a bit with the... kissing... but... like, _little_ things that are ‘more’. Th-than before. W-we can try those. M-maybe not _bigger_ stuff yet, but...”

Sans nodded again. “right, okay. ‘baby steps’, like ya said.”

 _He seemed to be taking this well_. Tabitha sighed in relief. “... Yeah. Exactly.”

“... so this’s the same thing as before, then.” Sans’ voice and smile were soft and so, so encouraging, even with the surety they held. “you call the shots an’ set the pace, and we’ll keep takin’ things slow.”

… _Oh, God, he_ got _it. He GOT it. He’d still work with it..._

“-we’ll go by what you’re comfortable with. just let me know if i’m goin’ too far an’ i’ll stop, and i might ask if somethin’s okay t’ do and you have _every right_ t’ tell me no, or change your mind. i will listen to _you_.” He tilted his skull as he eyed her, seeking confirmation. “okay?”

It was Tabitha’s turn to nod. Sans went on: “-and look, ‘s much as you’ve got stuff you’re worried or scared about... i also just, generally wanna do this _right_. okay? i – i really wanna go about this stuff the right way.”

… _Stars, how badly he wanted to take her hand in his and comfort her, let her know that he was telling the truth and how badly he wanted this, but it would probably be overstepping, especially considering the conversation they were currently having_. He was fidgeting with his own phalanges tangled in each other, even as he tried to put her at ease.

He brought his point home. “-we’ll keep workin’ at this, little by little, and we’ll use the exact same system we were usin’ before. ‘s long as you’re comfortable with it.”

Tabitha nodded more enthusiastically this time, and at the end of it, she murmured quietly, truly grateful for his hearing her and understanding her meaning: “... Thank you.”

Sans only smiled in return. “no problem, tabs.”

… _Why was he being so goddamn_ wonderful _._

As much as it unnerved her to think that she’d be going measures beyond where she’d felt safest staying before, it brought her an equal level of security to think that he was too ready to continue honoring her boundaries, at least, if his word was to be trusted. – _Stop that!, it has been so far, innocent until proven guilty, he’s only been innocent to this point. Breathe. Try._

Her thoughts were interrupted by Sans asking: “... so are ya willin’ to talk about things that _have_ been working at the moment? what rules or boundaries to keep usin’, an’ stuff?”

… A very fair question, along the lines of “checking in”. “... So, um, from last time, hand-holds and soft kisses are good,” Tabitha told him, her cheeks pinking slightly at the memory of but a few days ago. She then exhaled – _big step incoming_. “... Um, I’m also good to call it a relationship in name, too. … Y’know, using ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’ and stuff.”

She appeared so nervous saying that last part that Sans felt the need to ensure that she wasn’t pushing herself. “-tabs, it’s okay. if you’re not comfortable callin’ it that or makin’ it official yet, we can hold off until you’re feelin’ it more.”

“-No!, I...” Tabitha interjected, with a desperation he wasn’t anticipating. “... You’ve been really cool with all this, I should-” She stopped, reconfiguring her words. “... I _trust_ you at least that much.”

Sans felt his SOUL swelling fiercely in his thoracic cavity, and he did his level best to contain it. _If it showed up on his face, in his expression, and_ scared _her – when she was feeling this_ okay _with everything, when she was willing to define things and take a step further – he’d never forgive himself._

… He knew he’d failed miserably by the heat he felt in his cheeks, and by the echo in rose that Tabitha now wore.

He coughed and tried to give a non-pressurizing response. “... okay. if you’re sure.”

Despite her own flush, Tabitha shook her head. “You’ve been... really awesome about all this,” she told him. “I... I want...” She trailed off, too overcome with shyness to finish.

… _Was she really...?_

Most of the other situations in which Sans had sensed her emotions had been accidents, or else ones where she had been feeling something so strongly that it was impossible to not pick up on it. Right now, though, she seemed to be making a concentrated effort to hide, out of embarrassment.

Just this ~~thrice~~ once, just to assuage his uncertainty and disbelief, he let his empathy magic read her.

… _apprehension admiration bashful hope interest anxiety worry hope hope !!!_

-And he understood.

Sans didn’t think his smile could get any huger, not without his mandible disconnecting at the hinges (it couldn’t do that on its own, not really, but it certainly _felt_ like it right now). He took a deep breath. “-so you’re cool makin’ this official.”

Tabitha nodded.

“-not seein’ anyone else, in _that_ way at least. still seein’ each other.”

She nodded again – and he swore on the stars that her face became visibly redder.

_-Holy shit, he had a datemate._

_If only she knew how absolutely happy that made him._ For now, he chuckled softly. “... heheh, alright.”

Suddenly, in a bit of delayed realization, the full weight of the moment and meaning hit Sans so hard he nearly toppled onto her couch, if not for the high level of composure he’d trained himself to keep. His mind raced with the concepts swimming through them.

… _she's been hurt so badly, clearly she’s had a number done on her, but she wanted –_ wants _to try, and she's willing to try with_ me _._

… _holy shit._

If he couldn’t feel any more ~~love~~ ~~ _no not yet_~~ powerfully for her than he was already feeling – in light of this bravery, of this utter _trust_ , to let him help – he would be very, very surprised.

As it was, he finished his previous thought: “-then that’s what we’ll do. we’ll keep goin’, then.” Another thought then occurred to him: _he’d made a certain promise to Paps not a week ago_. “... uh, so, s’it alright if i talk with my bro about, uh, _us_?”

He careened into uncertainty again when Tabitha laughed outright, but was instantly soothed when she spoke. “-Of course you can tell him, you live with him, right?”

“heh, well, yeah, but, uh. given your boundaries ‘n stuff, i didn’t wanna, uh...” Sans stammered.

“Pssh, no, that’s fine.” Tabitha’s chuckling died off quickly to be replaced by a shy look again. “But, like... you can... tell other people you have a girlfriend, too. If you want.”

Sans smiled. “heh, or a datemate.”

Tabitha eyed him quizzically. “‘Datemate’?”

He mildly smirked at her. “monster term.”

“-Oh! Okay, yeah, sure.” Tabitha’s face had relaxed, curiosity sparking back into those brown eyes.

He sought to reassure her further: “heh, they’re pretty interchangeable. y’can easily use both alongside each other.”

Her adorable, relieved smile lit up something inside him. “Okay.”

… Which made him think of something else. _Hey, as long as they were defining things, may as well make sure all of the bounds were secure._

“er, speakin of ‘still seein’’ each other – are we spendin’ the right amount of time together, for ya? more? less?” Sans asked.

… _No harm in it, as long as her safety measures were in place._ “Um... I mean, we could do a _little_ more, probably, if you wanted.” She did some mental calculations. “... I mean, it’s mostly gonna be weeknights if that’s the case, since we both work, but...”

“-i’m fine with that if you are.” At her nod, Sans smiled – and then his thoughts chained into _yet another_ consideration.

Well, the band-aid was going to have to come off at some point. “... so, uh, ‘re we still only textin’ about plans?”

He didn’t like the way she began trembling.

“... Um. M-maybe? That’s...” Her sentence dropped off, as if she didn’t know how to go on.

Sans’ sockets narrowed, suspecting, _knowing_. “... somethin’ _he_ did wrong?”

… After a long silence, she nodded. Eventually, she forced her shaking jaw to move. “...Y-yeah. Um...”

He was saddened when she failed to follow through. _It was as if she wanted to say something, but couldn’t bring herself to >explain._ But hey, he was already expecting to have to reassure her, a _lot_.

So aloud, he sighed and said: “it’s okay, tabs. ya don’t have t’ tell me the details. just... i can keep bein’ distant over text if that’s what would make ya feel safest. alright?”

He meant it. If it was what would help her, where it _wasn’t her fault_ here, he could wait. He _would_ wait.

Tabitha, however, looked uneasy, eyes searching. “... I mean... like... maybe we could _try_ something? Like, um... if you sent me funny pictures or links, that’d probably be okay. … Um, maybe don’t expect me to respond until we’re face-to-face, though.”

… That seemed like a good intermediate step. He didn’t want her to force herself, of course; but on the other hand, if they were at least going to _try..._

He thought for a moment, parsing how else to get closer to the crux of the issue. “... how’s sendin’ jokes? no response needed?”

She seemed way, _way_ too hesitant. “... M-maybe?”

He watched her carefully before responding. “...ya don’t seem sure on that one, doll, so i’ll stick t’ funny pics only for now. no responses. an’ we can _always_ roll back on it later if need be. alright?” he smiled at her.

The expression of deliverance and reprieve on her was second to none. Her eyes were full of pure gratitude as she finally made eye contact with him again. “... Okay.”

-Then she snickered. “... You just ‘doll’ed me again, though.”

Sans’ eyelights guttered out.

“... _aw, crap_.” His palm flew to his forehead, the sound of bone-on-bone causing a hollow _smack_ to ring out. “... i’m _so_ sorry. tabs, _tabs._ ” The desperation to correct himself was nothing short of adorable to Tabitha. He continued after a few more whispered repetitions. “... just... just keep lettin’ me know when i mess up, okay? i’ll _always_ stop.”

To his eternal shock, she began blushing again. “... Actually, it might... be okay? I don’t _dislike_ it.” As if she suddenly became aware of the color flooding her face, she brought a half-closed hand up in front of her mouth. “... And, uh... if we’re gonna be... y’know, _boyfriend and girlfriend_ now, then...”

… _Aha_. Sans’ grin returned. “... heh, alright. i’ll go real sparingly until you’re more sure, ‘kay?” he informed her with an affectionate wink. “... meanwhile...”

-It may have been ill-advised, but the sheer willingness she’d had to discuss this, to give any of this a shot to begin with, was overwhelming him. The ecstasy and appreciation were flooding his every sense, consuming him, and if only to weaken the deluge in his SOUL, _he needed her to know_.

He situated his hand on the seat of the couch closer to her, without quite touching her. “... thank you for this. so much. just... for tryin’. at all. it means a lot. and...” He gulped as he found what he wanted to say. “-an’ i’m gonna do my best t’ not waste this, an’ make this work for ya. okay?”

… Tabitha immediately threw both hands up over her face.

For the second time this evening, Sans’ sockets went dark. _-shitshitshit i went too far is everything okay gotta fix-_

In a burst of panic, he let the empathy abilities loose again.

… The _joy_ that slammed into him was powerful enough to be almost tangible.

He took another look, and this time Sans noticed the crimson coloring of her skin that she was trying so very painfully to keep out of view, the eyes that she had clenched so tightly shut against believing the preceding words might have been any part real.

Someday, _someday,_ he’d be able to encourage her that she didn’t have to hide from him like that. But for now, he smiled and laughed gently.

“-heh, sorry. guess i flustered ya.” Then he lifted his hand that had been on the couch, scooching closer to her by a spot and holding his hand in the air, offering. “... want my hand?”

It was a gamble, to be sure. He’d do his best not to take it too hard if she didn’t take him up on it – _he_ had been the cause of this reaction, after all.

But she did take it. She gingerly reached out with the hand nearest him, letting the fingers of the one that remained on her face spread in a feeble attempt to cover her emotions, and laying her palm slowly into his own metacarpals.

He said not a word, but lowered their joined hands to the tiny bit of couch space between them, idly rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb as she came down from the high.

_This. This was what he’d wanted all along._

Presently, Sans broke the quiet. “... heh, so, ya mentioned food at some point? heh, uh, not that i’m not happy the way we are now, just, uh, so your big plans for th’ night don’t get screwed up.”

It was as if Tabitha came crashing back down to Earth in a blinding second. “-R-right! Dinner! … So, um,” she told him, having taken her hand back and replaced them in her lap (with a _lot_ less tension, Sans noted thankfully), “I cook, and I like to, but I, um, wasn’t just gonna make you something without knowing what you like, or if there’s anything that makes you sick-”

Sans interrupted to wink at her. “-ya mean aside from fries and ketchup?”

“-Haaah!” she fake-laughed, though the shine in her eyes betrayed her true feelings. “But yeah, um, what... _do_ you like?”

He answered honestly: “i’m not real picky. ‘s long as it’s not really ‘out there’ or weird and it tastes good, i’ll try anything.” He winked again. “-chances ‘re good you’re a better cook than my brother, so.”

Tabitha snorted. “... Hehe, okay. Next time, then.” She calmed enough to continue: “... But, um, for tonight, I was thinking we order takeout, and then I have something fun we can do...?”

… Hey, it’d be a cozy night in. He was game. Sans smiled. “sure, tabs. sounds good t’ me for now.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sans found himself getting a little nervous internally about the suggestion. There was a starsdamned reason he kept his cards close – even to the people he considered his friends and family.
> 
> But he shoved down his fears. Conversing on an at least somewhat deeper level would eventually be necessary, he knew. Especially if he wanted any meaningful happiness out of this in the long run.

The two of them decided to get Mediterranean food delivered – out of all of the paper menus Tabitha had pulled out to browse, that was the one that had interested Sans most, since it was one of the few cuisines he hadn’t yet tried since coming to the Surface (he’d already had experience with almost all of the variant Asian offerings, given Papyrus’ obsession with the many kinds of noodles now available to him). Him being new to the flavors, Tabitha suggested he get shawarma, which he took her up on; and Tabitha got something different from him that he could try if he felt brave enough.

That “something different” turned out to be a kibbeh plate, with salad and grape leaves. Sans was a bit suspicious of the meat with loose grains in it, but he inspected the remaining tiny dark wrappings with interest, and asked to try some.

Tabitha nearly choked on her food laughing. “-You’ll like those less than the kibbeh.”

He raised a brow. “... but you ate some first thing out of th’ box. ya seem t’ like ‘em just fine.”

“Haha, _yes_ , but I grew up on them. Well, not these ones exactly, but my mom’s part Greek.” She still cut a small bite off of the end of one, pushing it to the side of the sectioned styrofoam container her meal had come in and lifting it within his reach.

Eyes narrowed, he grabbed hold of it, noting the contents that consisted of rice and... something else. Herbs? It felt a bit slimy and cold to the touch. _Eh. If it was part of her history, he might as well try_.

He popped the morsel into his mouth... and _instantly_ spat it back out from how bitingly sour it tasted.

Tabitha was cackling madly. “I tolllllllld youuuuuu.”

“yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Sans muttered, not bothering to maintain the illusion of manners by waiting until he was done talking to bite into his _delicious_ wrap-sandwich-pita-thing. _Gotta get that awfulness out of his mouth_.

She kept chuckling as she finished off the rest of the grape leaf that his cut had come from. Even if it had been at his expense, he couldn’t help but smile a little with her.

She hadn’t been laughing around him at first, after all. And now she was, regularly. _That was a victory for him if he ever saw one_ ~~ _and he’d seen too many that never lasted, not really_~~ _._

He took a slow sip from his wine glass for extra measure (a Chianti that she had scouted out to be between both of their tastes in red wines, and he had to say, she’d done pretty well on that – it was just sweet enough to clean out the stink of what he’d dared to taste) and asked: “-so, you had ‘n activity for us or somethin’?”

Tabitha finished chewing her mouthful before exchanging her box of food for a couple of papers that had been on the coffee table this whole while. “-Yeah! … So, I was thinking, you know how we answered some questions about ourselves on Saturday?”

Sans smirked. “what, like the icebreakers?”

“Yeah.” As she handed one of the papers to him, she continued, “So I thought – maybe we could do some more of those? Learn about each other some more? … Um, if you’re okay with that...”

Sans found himself getting a little nervous internally about the suggestion. There was a starsdamned reason he kept his cards close – even to the people he considered his friends and family. There were things no one was meant to know or learn, either about him or the world and its workings, and he’d taken it upon himself to protect them from it all, because _they were not going to break like he had,_ _he would not allow it to happen, not in this or any timeline ever_.

But Sans was no fool, and he consequently shoved down his fears. Conversing on an at least _somewhat_ deeper level would eventually be necessary, he knew. Especially if he wanted her to trust being around him, especially if he wanted any meaningful _happiness_ out of this in the long run.

And looking at the sheet of questions, they didn’t seem too bad. In fact, some of these would be rather telling of if they had any compatibility long-term, without getting too deep into their histories. It was an incredibly well-thought-out questionnaire, come to think of it.

Sans smiled. He wasn’t in any danger this time after all.

Tabitha caught the expression he made after reviewing the questions, and she cautiously asked: “... So... are you okay doing this today?”

His chin turned up to meet her eyes. “yeah. i’m good with that.”

Tabitha sighed her own relief. _She had been taking a big chance in the first place to suggest something this thorough and so obviously demanding of some degree of vulnerability._ She knew she’d have to risk some vulnerability herself, so she’d heavily curated this list before typing it out, omitting many of the ones from the original list online she’d drawn inspiration from because _she already knew her own answer for them and didn’t want to entertain those thoughts or memories, thank you very much._ Certainly not anytime soon.

But she was more than willing to trade some of hers to see if this guy who wanted to date her so badly would respect her enough to make an equivalent sacrifice. If he could let down his guard around her the way she was, then to her, that was as good a sign as any.

Besides, there was another purpose to doing all this at her place: she needed to see how he acted when alone, if his behavior or mannerisms or words changed any.

She took another calming breath before explaining: “So you see that each of us has a sheet, but they’re exactly the same, all the same questions are on them. To make it fair, I thought we could take turns picking the question to answer. The only catch is, the one who picked the question has to answer the one they picked first.”

“... ahaaa.” Sans smirked wider. “so if ya pick a question, ya gotta be willin’ to answer it.”

“-Exactly! Then the other person answers it, then _they_ pick and answer, and so on until we’ve exhausted the list or it’s time to go.” Tabitha reached for the pens that had also been on the little table. “If it helps, we can cross off the lists to keep track of the ones we’ve already asked. Also, you can ask related follow-up questions before moving on.”

Sans nodded as he listened to the guidelines Tabitha proposed. “... okay, sounds good. and yeah, crossin’ ‘em off would be smart.” He accepted one of the pens from Tabitha’s hand. “... so, who goes first, then?”

“... Well, we could flip a coin if you want,” she suggested. “I keep a quarter here all the time for – ah, there it is,” she rejoiced, nabbing a silvery piece from an open tray on the shelf below the surface of the coffee table and holding it up to him. “... You’re the guest, so you can pick heads or tails.”

_Adding that suspense would be fun, however brief_. Sans grinned widely and took the coin from her between thumb and fore. “alright then. tails says _you_ go first.”

“Hehe, okay,” Tabitha replied, before closing the clam-shell lid of her food container and moving her wineglass out of the way so that the coin wouldn’t land in either.

Only when she had done so did Sans rest the coin on the side of his knuckle, hover his hand over the coffee table, and flick upwards with his thumb.

Tabitha was almost distracted by his technique – the coin spun through the air so perfectly, like it was _dancing_ , almost staying in place at the peak of its ascent for a whole two seconds and giving him plenty of time to withdraw his hand safely before it landed _dead flat_ on the table’s surface without bouncing.

… _Heads_.

Sans fell back into the couch cushions groaning. “-awhhhhhhh.”

“Man, that coin flip was so beautiful, I kinda feel bad for you,” Tabitha giggled.

“as my friend alph would say, ‘top ten anime betrayals.’” Sans was already over the loss, insignificant as it was, and had already sat back up, eyelights roving over the list again. “ugh, gimme a minute.”

“Sure.” Tabitha set her glass back down and took a few more bites of her dinner.

A few dozen seconds later, and Sans was ready. “-alright, i’ll start us off with ‘what do ya like most an’ least about your job.’” He exhaled. “... so, messin’ around with cars, i find peaceful, mechanical tangible work is soothing t’ me. workin’ with my hands, and all. – the _worst_ part is dealin’ with demanding or irate snobs, ‘specially those that think shit’s less expensive than it really is. the labor fees’ve gotta come in _somewhere_.”

“People deserve to be paid for their work, who knew?” Tabitha snarked, before answering herself: “Seeing someone regain the use of their body who had lost it, the more challenging patients as it were, and helping them be finally able to live _normally_ again is the best part for me. My least fave is patients who don’t even _try_ to do their exercise homework because, like, why are you even here then? Like, it’s one thing if it got away from you during the week, but it’s another if you’re just all ‘grr why do I gotta do this’.”

“i hear ya there,” Sans chuckled. He took a drink from his glass. “alright, you pick.”

Tabitha eyed her own list. “... Since we’re on the ‘work’ track, I’ll do ‘most embarrassing work story’. – So, there was one day during my residency where I kept going for every patient’s right side, even when the injury wasn’t on that side, even when it was _obvious_ due to bandaging or bracing being there. I got called ‘Doc Righty’ for a _week_ after. I’d pulled an all-nighter the night before, lesson learned, never did it again!”

Sans laughed, but then he stopped. “... ya did a residency for physical therapy?”

“Yeah, it’s required nowadays. I did an accelerated program, though, so it was just one year of it, evenings only.”

Sans whistled in response. “-an _accelerated_ program? damnnn. – what was th’ course schedule, then?”

Tabitha couldn’t help thinking that he seemed to know an _awful_ lot about academia, but she answered anyway: “Three-plus-three. Three undergrad, three grad-slash-resident.”

“... oof.” He had to shake off his _sheer awe_ before he reacted to the same question. “-heh, okay, so i got mad about someone’s messy car, we had t’ go into the trunk for somethin’, i forget what now, but it was _chock full_ of stuff. groceries, food, knick-knacks, took us ‘n _hour_ t’ empty the whole damn thing, it was _crazy_. i had half a mind t’ give the customer a lecture about carin’ for their vehicle when they came to pick it up.” He let out an uneasy sigh. “-turned out it was a monster, an’ what’s more, _someone i grew up with_. an’ the car was messy ‘cause he was between jobs, and his livin’ situation wasn’t stable just yet. swallowed my words _real_ quick.”

She held a palm over her mouth. “-Oh my God, that’s _awful_. If he was facing discrimination... Oh wow, I hope he’s doing better now.”

“-me too, tabs. me too.” He sounded solemn, quiet. Then his eyelights focused on his list again.

… Tabitha was encouraged by what she’d just heard. If he was able to walk back on a prior judgement due to circumstances beyond one’s control, then...

He spoke: “-okay, here we go, ‘what’s your favorite place in the world.’ – i’m gonna kinda answer twice for this one, since i got an answer for underground _and_ th’ surface.”

“Alright! Sounds good!” Tabitha replied excitedly. He smiled at her endearing curiosity.

“... heh. okay, so, back underground: the star caverns. i had a secret spot that only i knew how t’ get to, an’ it was the most gorgeous quiet place t’ go think by myself. snowdin forest has some great hideaways an’ views, too. – up _here_ though, it’s anywhere i can see th’ stars well at night. the valley cliffs, for example. th’ city doesn’t look so bad at night from up there, either.”

… Wow. A guy who could appreciate a great view. Tabitha smirked when she answered: “So, other than my bed which I made _super_ comfy... I’ve found some nice waterfalls and creeks in the mountains on some of my hikes. Really picturesque. I tend to time my breaks for those places.”

He smiled at her. “heh, you’ll have t’ show me sometime then.”

“Maybe I will.” She grinned herself, then picked another question: “Okay, ‘what do you like most about yourself.’ … So, I’m pretty self-sufficient. Not that I won’t accept help, of course, but, when no one _did_ help me, I helped myself instead.”

“... that’s a good thing t’ be.” Sans thought a moment before giving off the biggest smirk she’d seen in weeks. “... heh, do i even _need_ t’ answer that one out loud?”

Tabitha rolled her eyes. “It’s your puns, isn’t it.”

His smirk hadn’t abated. “yup, sense of humor.”

“-If you say ‘I think I’m pretty humerus’ one more time...”

“hey, _you_ said it, not me today!” he cackled. “-alright, favorite memory as ‘n adult: there is absolutely nothin’ that can compare t’ the feelin’ of freedom when the barrier broke,” he stated, a touch oversimplified, with a broad smile.

“-And getting to the Surface! Yeah, I’d imagine!” Tabitha agreed, before saying, “So, for me... it’s sort of a tie between when I graduated with my DPT, and when I first got my very own place – this one, actually! –, they were both things I’d worked hard for all by myself, so that feeling of accomplishment was amazing.”

“that _is_ a pretty sweet feeling.” Sans nodded. “... alright, your turn.”

“... Okay, I’m going to do the ‘favorite _childhood_ memory’ one. For me, that’d be when my parents took me out for a nice meal after making the principal’s achievement list every-semester, every-grade in middle school. They sort of picked the place, I didn’t get to pick, but it had a _huge_ koi pond and I was completely fascinated.”

“heh, sounds nice. bet ya’d like waterfall,” Sans joked. “-uhh, lessee... uh, i’d say playin’ ‘n the snow an’ ice-skatin’ with my bro, an’ explorin’ in the woods by home.” – In truth, it was learning engineering basics with his dad as a young child, but that wasn’t something he felt comfortable sharing aloud.

Tabitha was none the wiser. Her wistful smile at him was both beautiful and relieving to him. “... Even if living in the Underground was hard, it sounds like it wasn’t all bad.”

“-yeah, there _were_ some good times growin’ up.” He checked the list again before picking: “... heh, okay, ‘punch a pillow, or punch th’ fellow that angered ya.’”

Tabitha sat attentively for this one. It may have been worded cutely, but having some bigger clue as to how he would handle anger was very important, for her.

Sans answered jokingly: “... okay, so obviously self defense situations is punch th’ fellow, but... usually the pillow is safer, _legally_.”

Tabitha chuckled before pressing for more. “Haha, okay, but if no one would see you...?”

He snorted: “if it’s a shit enough insult? punch the guy! – but honestly, it usually isn’t worth it. it’s, uh...” He had to stop and parse. “-i’m a firm believer in pickin’ your battles _real_ carefully. if i really feel unsafe, i might do somethin’, but otherwise it’s just more productive t’ _talk_ , y’know? especially if it’s more of a misunderstandin’-type scenario.”

… _That made sense. And it wasn’t discomforting at all_. Tabitha nodded and gave her own response: “I’m not totally against punching the fellow if they’re a super-deserving jerk, but more likely I’ll handle it myself at home.”

Sans nodded in agreement as he took another sip of wine. He’d answered as truthfully as he could; if he _could_ be more proactive, he would, but... not having much HP wasn’t exactly conducive to that.

Tabitha asked the next question: “... Okay, so, the special and important people in your life, and how much time you’d ideally spend with them. Robyn’s sort of been _it_ for me for the past few years,” she admitted. “I _would_ spend a few more nights a week with her if I could, but probably not all seven. … So, I know you’ve got your brother...”

Sans barked a chuckle, secretly noting her eagerness to move on ~~because having only the one friend, and not mentioning any family, that was sort of sad, maybe something had happened to her too?~~ before listing off: “heh, yup, there’s my bro paps, tori, alph, undyne. metta an’ the kid by extension too. i’d spend far more time with ‘em all if i could.” Then his face morphed into a bigger grin. “but there’s also grillby, an’ him, i _do_ spend ‘s much time as allowed, given his job!”

“-Haha, yup, that was practically another given,” Tabitha cracked back, sneaking in some more of her dinner as Sans decided on the next question.

“-jeez, we’re a third done already. – hmm, ‘do you think there ‘s a higher power.’ … that’s a pretty interestin’ one.”

“-There’s a good mix on here,” Tabitha told him, having just swallowed a bite. “Just seems like stuff that’d be good to know.”

Sans took a few seconds to think. “... i dunno. i’m not inclined t’ think so, really.”

“... I kind of don’t think so either,” Tabitha said. “... If anything, I feel there’s a higher sense of inter-connectedness between people, a sort of spirituality thing, but no ‘higher power’ per se.”

Sans nodded. _… Well, the magic and empathy that monsters shared_ were _things that existed, so_...

For her next question, Tabitha decided to up the ante. “‘What dreams do you have for the future.’”

… _Ah_. Sans listened carefully: “... So, I like my job, I like helping people, but the hours are _crazy_. And, you know, someday, I’d want to have more time to go, like, learn about people more.” She seemed to think about how to word things. “... I like people, I like learning about their lives and stories and all that it means, and... if I stay in one place I’m sort of limited in that, right? So... I’d just want a little more freedom to visit different places.”

Sans nodded. _She seemed really oriented towards caring for others._ That left him feeling quite hopeful.

It took him longer to figure out how to answer his portion: “... hm. for me, uh... well, thaaat’s a toughie. i mean, considerin’ i didn’t _have_ much of a future, before... y’know.” He took a breath as he debated. “... back then, it was makin’ sure my bro was happy, an’ maybe help break the barrier, like everybody else dreamed they’d help with. now, i’m still keepin’ my lil’ bro happy, but...” He smiled a little. “... i’m also seein’ what’s out there now, an’ feelin’ out what options i even _have_ now. if i could, i’d look around a little bit, see what the surface has t’ offer.” His grin grew. “i’m not _huge_ on travel, but if there’s somethin’ interesting enough or it’s a good opportunity, i might check it out.”

There were some other goals he had for the future, as well – but those were a bit too close to home with the situation at hand to mention now.

Tabitha watched him soberly. “... Yeah. It’s definitely hard to have everything planned one way, then suddenly have to change course.” She gazed at her wrung hands. “... I should’ve thought of that before putting it on the list. I’m sorry.”

“-doll, you’re fine. ya couldn’t have known that ‘n advance.” He leaned forward, hoping to soothe her worries. “... suppose i’d had big plans for surface life ‘cause i believed with all my soul that i’d see it for myself? that was my brother’s approach, an’ it’s not somethin’ i’d taken away from him then, nor would i ‘ve tried to. y’know?”

The sad look on her face turned into more of a happy one, and despite the lingering guilt in her eyes, she’d seemed to relax at his words. “... Thank you.”

“nah, no need t’ thank me for that. – alright, i believe it’s my turn, so...” He perused the sheet, hoping to find one with a more positive bent. “... oh! ‘if you could do one thing for th’ rest of your life, what would it be?’ – eh, this isn’t ‘xactly _new_ , but i used t’ do a lot more toyin’ around with mechanical crap. i’d like nothin’ more than to be able t’ have time for it again. i mean, cars are fun, but i like doin’ the whole spectrum, y’know?”

Tabitha nodded. “Makes sense! … So for me, I’m actually kind of doing what I want career-wise!” she stated. “-But... if there was a way to combine that and seeing more of the world, or meeting more or different people than just who – who _was_ in Ebott, that’d be more my ideal. … I like learning about people, and I do feel trapped here sometimes.”

“... heh, i know the feelin’.” He took a big bite of his shawarma, conscious that it was cooling off rapidly by now – thankfully he only had one mouthful left after this.

A ferocious blush appeared on her face. “-I didn’t mean- !”

“-hey, it’s alright. lot’sa different ways an’ places t’ feel ‘trapped’, i get it. no worries.” Before popping the last of his shawarma in his mouth, he told her: “your turn t’ pick, tabs.”

“-Right. Um...” She weighed the remaining questions before choosing one. “-Okay! So, what’s your most valuable thing you own, _to you_?, not in a monetary sense?” She smiled. “Well, you know I get cold easy, so, my blanket collection,” she gushed, pointing to a rather large dark-rattan trunk that stood at the end of the couch nearest her. “I’ve got a bunch in there, most of them are _really_ soft. Also, my houseplants,” she added, indicating the random little cacti and succulents and spider plants that were perched here and there in strategic, non-intrusive locations. “They cheer the place up so much.”

Sans had to concur, seeing as how the bright greenery made the living room alone seem much more warm and inviting. But if he also had to guess, given the lack of people in her life, he’d have thought that there was another sort of warmth entirely that she also got from the blankets she’d mentioned.

Instead of mentioning his observations, he said: “... yeah, they really do. for me... hmmmmm. ya can’t go wrong with reliable, sturdy gear. my jacket an’ good sneakers, i’ve had for yeeears. – other than that, though, my telescope, and what manuals an’ tools i still have from the underground. those were my first intro to what i love t’ do now.”

Tabitha seemed to be staring at him with a strange look of adoration, and just in case it was something on his face that showed when he ~~almost accidentally talked about science again, holy shit sans learn to keep your damn mouth shut~~ talked about his more nostalgic possessions, he quickly searched for another question to ask. “... hmm, ‘if you could live ‘n any kinda environment, where would it be?’ … gotta be somewhere quieter, for me. cold, hot, i don’t much care, ‘s long as it’s fewer people _and_ low light pollution for stargazing.”

She grinned only wider at him, intrigued by his response. There was that charming stargazing hobby of his again – but that aside, even... _How she longed for the same_. “The city’s not my favorite place either. I’d prefer less crowded,” she told him. “... Maybe a bit warmer, though.”

He smirked at her. “-heh, makes sense, miss gets-cold-easy.”

“Shush, you,” she fired back. “-‘What’s something you’re really proud of?’”

“-ooh, gettin’ deeper with the questions,” Sans teased.

“Now, now!” she laughed, before answering. “... I was very self reliant through and after college. I got my shit together on my own, without too much guidance.”

“... nice. goin’ t’ school far away from home’s gotta help there,” Sans agreed. He considered his own answer for a while. “lessee... oh! i raised paps,” he stated with a broad smile. “since he was four. i mean, at some point, the roles switched an’ he’s hyper responsible an’ takes care of me much more now instead, but i like t’ think i did something right there.”

His first thought for this one had been convincing the kid to change course, somehow... but since he wasn’t going to be talking about that ~~ever~~ anytime soon, that seemed like a suitable second choice. He _did_ have a right to be proud of that one, after all, he thought.

Tabitha appeared to think so too, letting out a soft “ _Aww!_ ” – before she stopped short in wide-eyed, shocked realization, the kind that made Sans’ SOUL freeze up, as well.

He knew damn well what he’d said. _Shit. Had she picked up-_

His fears were confirmed when, slowly, she began: “So, uh, if you... um... your parents...?”

-Sans held his breath that he didn’t need to hold. _… Shit. How was he going to explain this_ now _?_

Rubbing a hand against the back of his head, he choked down his pride and decided the best course of action right now was to admit to at least a grain of the truth. He let his breath out of his nasal opening, uneasy and drawn-out. “... yeah. it’s...”

But Tabitha quickly interrupted him: “-We don’t have to talk about it.” A little less hurriedly, she reiterated: “... It’s okay.”

… _He was so damn grateful for the return favor._ He’d never intended to force a situation like this – but given how many times he’d given her a pass on talking about whatever trauma she’d obviously been through, the fact that she was showing the same respect towards him wasn’t lost on him. He lowered his hand, and weakly smiled at her. “... thanks.”

She saw how his lower lids had wrinkled with emotion, but said nothing more.

… _Dammit, that was the_ second _question from her list that had touched a nerve for him._ She was more than satisfied for her original goal being met – that he was willing to talk, and open up a bit... but she’d never wanted to make him feel like _this_.

She’d been able to write-out questions that she wouldn’t have wanted to answer herself... maybe she should have given him a free pass to ignore one or two? Hopefully she hadn’t screwed things up by upsetting him...

“-it’s alright, tabs.”

She glanced up sharply to see that he had seemingly shaken off all trace of emotion, and was now eyeing her with concern. “-hey, ya didn’t know. i’m not upset. not at you.”

… _Fucking Hell, she was so selfish._ Tabitha hastily put a neutral face on and faced him squarely. “No, stop, it’s okay, you don’t have to comfort me. … I-I should be helping _you_ right now.”

She was surprised to hear a release of air from his mouth, then the start of him chuckling helplessly. “-nah, that’s...”

He paused and changed tracks, loosing out a long sigh. “... can i see your hand, for a sec?”

… After what she’d just done to him, of _course_ she’d oblige. She extended her hand to his, and he took it – not in one set of phalanges, but in _two_.

- _This wasn’t supposed to be how it went!_

As if to dispel all of her internal conflict, Sans stated, strict-voiced: “... look, if we’re gonna be doin’ this – bein’ datemates, the whole mile – there might be times where we’re gonna have t’ look out for each other. maybe at th’ same time.” One of his thumbs was caressing the back of her palm again – something he seemed to like to do, when hand-holding. “even ‘s kids, there were things paps did t’ help me. we both had each other’s backs.” In spite of his still-serious tone, a smile crept across his teeth. “... i’m perfectly capable of acceptin’ that. there’s no way i’d hold that against ya. … can ya not hold it against yourself for me, if stuff like this happens?”

… _Goddammit, he was_ right. _He was right, he was being so damn_ caring _, he had no right to be this wise and sage and compassionate and take it all away later-_

Tabitha gulped, a feeble effort to steady her resolve. _Trust_. “... I’ll try.”

“-atta girl.” His grin was much bigger now that she was looking at him again. “‘baby steps.’ we’ll be alright. … let’s keep goin’ on these?”

She nodded, using the heel of her other palm to blot away the tears that had unceremoniously gathered in her lower lids. _She was still frustrated with herself_. But if Sans was as good as his word – and so far, he only ever had been – then she would keep trying.

_Don’t feel bad for having needs. You’re allowed to have them._

… Robyn’s words of years ago echoed in Tabitha’s mind, and she smiled. Looking up to Sans, she felt like, maybe, as he’d said... they _would_ be alright.

She nodded to him. “... It’s your turn to answer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fwiw, i don’t share either Tab’s OR Sans’ opinions on dolmas – i’m pretty good with most sour foods, though not fanatic. - _but kibbeh is The Shit and better than shawarma and I will fite u_
> 
> -jeez, that many blankets... somebody’s touch-starved :>
> 
> … ooooh, Sansyyyyyy, did you just give her advice you hardly even take yourself??? :^)  
> naughty naughty, that’s gonna come back and bite ya~~
> 
> see you next Saturday peeps <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tabitha saw his nervous hand-wringing, heard the way his voice dropped low and soft, and it gave her mind pause. Those didn’t occur to her as the gestures of someone trying to make themselves look good on purpose.
> 
> She watched him in wonder and hope as he chose their next question.

Sans made sure to smile extra-wide at Tabitha and praise her before he let go of her. “-alright. good. this ‘s been nice so far, it’s been a good idea, an’ we’ve still got plenty of time tonight. so, it’s my turn now, i’ll pick next. alright?”

He released her hand at her nod, to pick up and browse the question list again. … _Hm._ Most of the remaining questions were a little more on the theoretical side. Not harder or more emotionally difficult necessarily, but a little more revealing of character than the questions they’d already knocked off.

… He was starting to get an idea about the larger purpose of this date activity.

He wasn’t any bit offended – it was as useful for him to hear her own answers to these, as it likely was for her. Still, Sans decided he was going to go ahead and take this a little more seriously, and bite the bullet on some of the heavier stuff.

He wanted her to trust him... right?

Sans cautiously gauged the questions, aiming for something to raise the stakes a bit. “... huh, okay. i’m gonna do ‘what do ya value most ‘n life’.”

… That seemed to nab Tabitha’s attention. He saw her sit up just that little bit straighter, her motion hardly noticeable except for how observant and careful he’d always been.

Of course he’d answer honestly. It’d involve talking _around_ what’d he’d seen, how it had shaped what was important to him, but he’d be as honest as possible. He just hoped it would ping to her that way.

“... if the people i care about ‘re happy, _i’m_ happy. my lil’ bro most of all, he really deserves it. there’s a lot that’s happened t’ him, even if he doesn’t understand it all. same goes for most of my friends, each of them’s been through somethin’ or other.” _Even if they would never know the half of it._ He continued: “... most of ‘em are a lot happier nowadays. i hope t’ keep it that way.”

… Tabitha was a little awestruck by it. It certainly matched up with his previous answer regarding raising his younger sibling, and with how much he’d talked about his brother in all the months they’d hung out even before this whole dating arrangement. His story hadn’t changed, at least.

-But in light of the consistency, she next had a chance to absorb how _caring_ he was. It did all line up – with his talk of being the older brother, with how careful he’d been with her...

… With how fighting for the sake of his own pride hadn’t been a priority for him at all, on Saturday.

_Would it be something he’d get braggy about...?_

She pushed the intrusive worry from her mind. _Innocent until guilty. Innocent until guilty_.

It still made her upcoming answer to the same question make her feel all the more self-conscious. She let out a weak laugh. “So... This is gonna sound really weird...”

“no, no, go ahead,” Sans coaxed her.

… _Here goes, then_. “Well, I kind of feel like people are _meant_ to connect to each other, y’know? Like... our lives as – _intelligent beings_ have more meaning in community. And, like, synergy. But...” Tabitha took a breath. “-That means, like, talking, _listening_ , and like... people don’t do that enough, y’know? It’s...” She considered her next words. “... It’s hard for me to understand how people who _don’t_ try to connect to others could ever be, like, actually _happy_. … I know, it’s cliché,” she demurred.

“-so what if it is? if ya really believe it, then it’s fine, right?” Sans was watching her intently, and it was truthfully making her a big uncomfortable. “... it’s not a bad thing t’ believe.”

“... I guess so.” Trying to get things to be cheerful again, she picked a more light-hearted question: “-Okay, ‘craziest work story.’ Hands down, the worst stuff for me has all been along the lines of post-surgical wound care. I’ve seen and overheard some pretty crazy things that people thought would be good ideas to ‘get back in the game’ sooner. I’ve heard of a guy who used one percent bleach solution – the wound never closed on its own, it just flopped back open when the stitches were out. I’ve heard of people packing their open wound with weird unsanitary shit like toilet paper, bits of rags, chewing gum – as if that’d help it ‘stick together’ or something!” she retold in an animated fashion, causing Sans to double over.

“-Hell, one of Robyn’s patients a year ago let their goddamn _dog_ lick it to keep it clean!” she went on. “You’d think reinfection after infection after infection would have told them that was a bad idea, but, no. And one time on my clinical rotation, some diehard had sewn their own burst stitches shut with needle and thread they had at home, like, you only do that if you’re insane or shitfaced.” She paused to let Sans laugh and appreciate the magnitude of lunacy of the last one. “-My _personal_ craziest that I’ve seen with my own two eyes in-practice, though? – _duct tape_ , that’s it, no gauze or even tissue or paper towel, tape right on the skin. That was a _bitch_ to remove without ripping the surgical wound open. It took _chemicals_ , and the dude, bless him, all seven feet of beefy muscular tough guy, was screaming like a grade-schooler.”

“- _oh, stars,_ ” Sans choked out between fits of chortling. He was holding his stomach as if it hurt – not that he had one, but considering they were beings of magic, Tabitha figured that there were a lot of analogous mechanisms that occurred automatically anyway. When he’d finally caught his breath, he wheezed, “-ok, yeah, diy-ers ‘re nuts sometimes. seen waaaaay too many self-repair attempts with fuckin’ zip-ties. battery terminals, loose pipes an’ valves. little wonder they didn’t hold or even _work_ an’ they ended up comin’ in t’ see us anyway.”

“-Wouldn’t plastic _melt_ from touching the hot parts of the car?” Tabitha remarked, still smirking.

“heh, yup, half the time. – okay so, _my_ craziest?” he began. “-some guy came into our shop for th’ first time for ‘n oil change, simple enough, right?, i go t’ take off the filter – whoever the fuck worked on his car before, had t’ve been another technician given it was a fancy-ass convertible an’ therefore somebody who should’ve _known_ better – didn’t lubricate th’ filter gasket, an’ the thing had pretty much _glued_ itself to the engine.” He shook his head in disbelief at the memory. “i cannot _begin_ to tell you how many random tools i scrounged up just t’ try an’ chip this thing off _piece by fuckin’ piece_ , and i was still _drenched_ in oil by th’ time i was done.”

He had Tabitha chuckling readily, the way he usually did nowadays. “-Oh my God.”

“heheh, yup. only reason my bones aren’t permanently stained ‘s ‘cause we have jumpsuit uniforms, which, needless t’ say, the one i was wearin’ that day went right ‘nto the trash, heh, an’ i also had the good sense t’ get gloves an’ a face shield for _welding_. all over an _oil change_ , one of th’ most routine an’ easy jobs ‘n the business.” He shook his head laughing again. “i can see the guy before me havin’ had a bad day or _something_ t’ forget to lube it, but man, that was _stupid_. i’ve made _bigger_ repairs, but that takes the cake for my personal craziest given how simple it should’ve been t’ start.”

Tabitha nodded, taking note of how he was at least trying to be compassionate towards whatever mechanic had come before him even as her laughter died down. “-Yeah, sounds like you got a _lot_ more than you bargained for with that one.”

“you _bet_.” Sans sighed the last of his giggling away before selecting another question. “... ooh, ‘what social or sociopolitical issue matters most t’ you?’ that’s a good one.”

“-So I didn’t get to add it on before I printed these, but for the purposes of this question, we’re gonna say that this is aside from monster rights, since it’s a likely given for us both,” Tabitha interrupted with a wise grin.

“-haha, okay, fair exclusion,” Sans allowed before thinking his answer over. “... it’d have t’ be conservation an’ resource management. it was a _big_ issue underground, with the crowding and population issues, so, y’know, go figure that it’s one up here too, but th’ surface is so damn greedy an’ _wasteful_ with its bounty it’s a little sickening t’ me. you could make _so much_ better use of what ya actually _have_ , for once. an’ maybe not totally destroy it ‘n the process.”

Tabitha couldn’t help but chuckle to herself because _that was such an engineer answer_. “-That’s very true, environmental stuff is pretty important to me too. For me, other than that ‘cause I’m not gonna repeat yours... it’d be leaving anybody behind in a society. Looking down on welfare, the disabled, minorities, poor, _just because_. And by extension not taking care of other citizens of our planet. Like... how can you _not care_ for other people?”

“... yeah, that was unthinkable underground, that was a big culture shock findin’ out how humans an’ groups can be so callous sometimes.” Again, Sans was shaking his head, this time a lot more sadly. “... i mean, i know solidarity ‘s probably a bigger concept for monsters, given our history with the war an’ all, but, _damn_.”

“-I know, right?” Tabitha lamented, settling back into her couch. “... We’re just so fucking _awful_ to each other all the time.”

“yeahhhh.” Sans reached for the wine, topping off both his glass and Tabitha’s and finishing the bottle. “-your turn.”

“... okay, ‘what’s the best part of dating you’.” He watched as she thought on her response. “... I like to think I’m open minded, and try to understand other people and not judge them. Plus, I’m not someone who fakes what I feel.”

“... hey, that’s a great way t’ be.” Sans then grinned. “-well!, besides the obvious impeccable sense of humor?” he began, stopping politely to let Tabitha snicker. “... i’m ‘show, don’t tell’. or don’t ‘just tell’, i guess. i work hard for th’ people i care about.” He twisted his hands, hoping he wasn’t coming off as boastful. “... i don’t make too many promises, but what promises i _do_ make, i _keep_.”

Tabitha saw his nervous hand-wringing, heard the way his voice dropped low and soft, and it gave her mind pause. _Those didn’t occur to her as the gestures of someone trying to make themselves look good on purpose._

She watched him in wonder and hope as he chose their next question.

“... define ‘compromise’. that’s a _real_ good one, i’m gonna need a minute.” He let himself lean back into the couch as he thought. “... ‘compromise’, is figurin’ out the needs of both sides, an’ findin’ the happy medium, barring obvious dealbreakers. y’know, how t’ get the most of what everyone wants or needs while makin’ sure no one is givin’ up too much either.”

… Tabitha was impressed. He wasn’t shying away from the more difficult questions at all, not simply leaving them all for her to pick – in hindsight, she couldn’t blame him for tackling some of the lighter ones first to warm up, so to speak. The fact that he was willing to discuss this sort of stuff head-on in _any_ capacity really went a long way to help her feel even more comfortable with the decision she’d made to trust him.

She knew she was due to answer, so she did: “-To me, compromise is finding a single solution that everyone can not only agree on but also helps everybody, so that no one is upset or left out of the discussion or excluded. – I like your answer a lot, though,” she approved out loud. “If someone is making all the sacrifices, that's not really much of a compromise, is it?”

Sans smiled back at her. “nope, it's not.”

She felt her own grin flourishing as she checked her sheet. _Wow, only four left_. “... Hm, ‘favorite relaxing activity’. For me, that’s easy. The one thing every adult comes to regret skipping as a baby.” Her grin morphed into a full-on smirk. “-Naaaaaaaaps.”

Immediately, Sans threw up a hand and held his palm in front of her with a grin of his own.

Tabitha reached out to return his high-five, saying laughingly, “Haha, what, you too?”

“ _hell yeah_ ,” he replied. “ _truth_. y’always think naps ‘re shit as a kid, then ya grow up an’ find out naps are _the_ shit.”

“- _Pffff_!” Tabitha snorted at his pun. “Your turn, goofball.”

“alright. … hm. ‘the best advice you’ve ever received.’ that’s an easy one: you fail when ya quit.” One his father had told him years ago, which applied not only to engineering and science, but to life as well. “-ya _can_ an’ _should_ keep workin’ on a problem or puzzle ‘r mechanical quandary from any and every new angle until you succeed.”

Never mind that it had been excruciatingly hard to follow during the years of Resets, at first; but many timelines later, when things got particularly dire, those words were what had enabled him to snap out of it and realize that it was the only thing that might save everyone.

Tabitha was struck by it. “... Wow. That’s good advice, actually.Like, _really_ good.” She took a moment to reflect. “The best I’ve ever gotten is, don’t try to impress everyone. The people who matter don’t mind, the people who mind don’t matter.”

“-not bad either,” Sans commented, taking up his glass. “... your turn?”

“-Yeah. Hmm... I’ll do ‘biggest pet peeve’.”

Sans chuckled teasingly. “... what, gonna let me handle the advice ones, huh?”

“Hah, sure, why not, it was a good answer!” she retorted, before answering the real question: “... I don’t like people who don’t listen to others and only take their own opinions or perspective into account, or act like theirs is the only right opinion.” She may have wrung her hands a lot already this evening, but based on Sans’ examination, she was making said motion the hardest she had all evening, and he wondered if her statement had anything to do with the trauma she’d experienced. “... That’s... to me, that’s the worst kind of person there is.”

He nodded solemnly. He had to agree – those kind of people weren’t pleasant. He left a meaningful pause before saying his piece, paired with a sullen expression: “... mine’s selfish people who don’t care about consequences or their effect ‘n others.”

Tabitha gave a single, bitter laugh. “... There’s a lot of overlap there, for us both.”

“... yeahhh, there really is, huh?” he asked rhetorically. In a way, though... it was good to know they were on a similar wavelength, in that regard. He moved on. “-aaaaaand last but not least, ‘if somebody came t’ you for general life advice, what would ya tell them?’”

After a moment’s thought, he said, plainly: “... ‘treat others the way ya want t’ be treated’. simple. never practiced enough. other people ‘re other _people_ , not your tools.” The dark look on face, the lack of lights in sockets, made Tabitha believe him. “... really, _really_ doesn’t happen enough.”

“... It really doesn’t though, does it?” Tabitha murmured. “-Mine is to not make assumptions about others. You never _really_ know. … Y’know?”

… _Heh, well, if his growing opinion of her ex was anything to go by, he might consider sidestepping that one_. Outwardly, though, he nodded. “yeah. that’s pretty good.”

“-Holy shit, we made it through all of them!” Tabitha exclaimed, setting her own list back down on the coffee table and taking hold of her wine glass instead. “... Thanks a lot for doing this with me.”

“... heh, no problem, tabs.” Sans put his sheet down as well. “it was kinda fun. and i learned a lotta good stuff. i mean, heh, i know that was th’ whole _point_ , but...” He half-jokingly raised his glass. “ya did good. great idea.”

He could have _lived_ for the rosiness that glowed on her cheeks. “... Thanks.”

“-heh, no, thank _you_.” He took a sip from his glass before a thought crossed his mind. “... what time _is_ it now, anyway?”

He saw her look to the cable box by her TV, and made a mental note that that was where he should check in the future. Her face lit up in surprise. “-Damn, it’s 8:30 already!”

“heh, 8:32 t’ be precise,” he jested. He considered his options. “... well, i know we both got work tomorrow, but, uh, i’m cool t’ spend a little more time, if ya want.”

- _They’d been hanging out for two hours, but for her it hadn’t felt nearly as long as it did._ Tabitha was completely taken aback by how time had flown by. Even _more_ unexpected to her, was how much she didn’t want tonight to be over yet.

_Wasn’t she crying to Robyn in terror at the concept of hanging out with him only a week ago today...?_

Tabitha scolded herself with the reminder that a _lot_ had changed since then (and wasn’t that interesting, that once she had decided to start actually taking steps forward, regardless of the small size of said steps, how things began not only progressing but getting immensely _better_ every time?), and beamed at Sans. “... Sure.”

… _Stars, that was a dreamy smile._ Trying to contain his own blush, he mused, “... so, uh, we call it quits at nine then? … 9:30?”

He was consummately relieved when she responded, “9:30 sounds good.” _Somehow, some-fucking-how, he wasn’t fucking this up yet._

“... sounds good t’ me.” He smiled back at her. “... so whatcha wanna do for the next hour, then?”

Tabitha had to consider that one for a moment. “... Well, you remember how we talked about TV up here? Maybe I could show you some of the stuff you asked me to recommend?”

“that’s a thought,” he replied. “what’re ya thinkin’ of?”

“... I’m kind of curious to know what you’d think of ‘Big Bang Theory’, actually,” Tabitha told him. “Most of the science references are intended to go over the audience’s heads for the most part, but I wonder how many of them you’d get, or if they’re all authentic to begin with.”

“-oh, that one’s science-based?” Sans asked, intrigued.

“It’s _very_ nerdy.” Her expression became a little less sure. “-It’s, um... some people think that its comedy is a little derisive, though. I tend to agree, but, um, hey, maybe you’ll still get something out of it? From the engineering side of it?”

“... hmmm.” Sans rubbed a hand on his chin. “... y’know, if ya don’t mind me sayin’, that could be better t’ start doin’ when we’ve got more than ‘n hour. – but it’s your call, of course.” He looked up at her. “if ya think watchin’ an episode t’ start this week would be a good idea, we can go with that.”

… _Even now, he was trying to put her desires first._ “... You know, that’s actually a better idea.” Her brows raised, even as her lids half-closed. “-Sunday afternoon? Here again? And this time, I’ll make dinner, as promised.”

“... well now, how could i refuse _that_?” Sans joked, jauntily reclining onto one of his elbows. “-sure thing, doll. same time?”

“Mmm, maybe a little earlier, so we can do a proper marathon. Or the start of one, anyway. There’s a _lot_ of seasons to get through, if it turns out it’s up your alley.” Her irises traveled to one corner of her eyes as she performed schedule calculations. “... Would 3:30 be okay? Is that too early?”

“not at all. 3:30 it is.” One side of Sans’ grin flew higher. “... heh, that doesn’t solve our plans for tonight, though.”

“... Hmm. I guess we could channel-surf, maybe? … I, um, don’t have a whole lot to do here... sorry.” She seemed a little guilty over her lack of ideas. “... Um, thoughts?”

“... channel surfin’s fine by me, doll.” He spun in his seat to face the television properly. “we’ll just see what’s available an’ figure it out from there, alright?”

His willingness to go with the flow put her visibly at ease. “... Okay.” She nabbed the remote from the same tray on the lower shelf of her coffee table that she’d retrieved the quarter from earlier, returning both the quarter and the pens they’d used while she was at it, and pressed the “on” button as she sat up straight again.

“... gonna nab a blanket for yourself before we start?” he suggested, his sockets falling on the rattan trunk from before.

She instead smirked at him, then without looking behind her, yanked over one that had been arranged decoratively on the couch beforehand. It was a loose-knit, tasseled, soft afghan, in mottled shades of rust-orange and dark berry; both beautiful, and functional.

He began cackling at the ridiculously suave play on her part. “-heheheheheheh! should've figured you’d have one ready.” He let her get comfortable beneath it before paying any serious attention to the screen. “... huh. looks like it’s on sharks.”

“... Huh. Neat.” Afghan laid out over her folded legs, she moved herself next to him again, with only inches in between. “Discovery Channel’s good by me. You down?”

“sure.” He sunk into the cushions a little, thankful to see that she wasn’t so disturbed or anxious about being so close to him.

… Speaking of that, and her talking about her blankets, earlier... it was time to test a theory. After waiting a long while for the air to settle, he finally asked: “... are ya okay with my puttin’ an arm around ya?”

… Tabitha hesitated at first, and Sans was worried he was moving too fast. He was careful to reiterate: “-you’re allowed t’ say ‘no’, tabs. it’s alright. _you call the shots_.”

But instead, she lifted a clenched fist to her mouth, and it was only then that he spotted how flushed her cheeks were, more than they were minutes ago. “... You can.”

… _Oh._

He let out a long, preparatory exhale.

Gently, softly, _slowly_ , he relocated his arm from being laid across the top of the couch back, to finding its place around her shoulders. He was painstakingly cautious to not pull her any closer than she already was, just letting her get used to the idea and the contact, and see if she enjoyed it. _Baby steps_.

She began by going stark still, and while the temptation to use his empathy was strong _please don’t have fucked up please don’t have fucked up_ , he wanted to give her the chance to let her use her voice, first. She’d been being good about speaking up and making her needs known, and he wasn’t going to take that away from her; it would be counterproductive to. He’d only use it if she gave signs of possibly agreeing to something against her will, and she wasn’t doing that just yet.

In his attempts to be magnanimous and not use his magic, he didn’t realize was that Tabitha had frozen up because _she needed every ounce of strength to not squeal audibly with her joy and contentment._

Sure, she got hugs from Robyn, nearly every day. And some of her more ecstatic or grateful patients had given her hugs when their course of treatment with her had been completed. She wasn’t touch-starved, no sir, that was totally not the case. And yet...

… _And yet having his arm encircling her like this made her feel so safe._

Part of it was the way he didn’t use it as an excuse to manhandle her, or resituate her closer to himself – a gesture that, in her experience, often achieved the opposite of its intended protective effect. But the real reason it felt so good was the way he _did_ go about it – his arm remained loose, and relaxed, and _natural_ , granting her not only its full warmth but also extending its restful and comforted feeling as if by osmosis. _None of that stiff, distant, calculated crap she’d only ever gotten before_.

_And it was so peaceful and mellow and_ easy _and..._

Before she even knew it, Tabitha had completely leaned into the touch, curling up and angling into Sans’ side, slotting her shoulder that was nearest to him just behind his jacketed ribcage so that she could rest her head on the outer boundary of his own shoulder. She felt him stiffen up himself, but only for a split second – before he then let his entire arm fall about her, cradling her against him.

- _God, it was even_ more _wonderful this way._

… Tonight in general had just been so damn _wonderful_.

As far as she was concerned, he’d proven himself tonight, proven quite a few of her lingering concerns to be unfounded. Asking those questions of each other _had_ been fun (for them both!) after all, he’d been more than willing to participate fully in the process, he’d given answers that bolstered her faith in him and this relationship ~~_holy shit she was in a relationship again_~~ ~~she had to try not to think about it too hard or she might chicken out from the thought alone~~ , and while it wasn’t enough to be able to send _all_ of her fears packing, it was more than enough to cement her resolve to give him a chance in this, that it wouldn’t hurt to get closer and learn more about him. Besides, he’d been warm and fun so far – very much unlike her past experiences – and he was giving no signs of inconsistency or misleading, least of all on his constant efforts to accommodate her at every turn.

He’d promised that she got to call the shots. She supposed that “calling the shots” included moving forward, as well.

_The only way was to try and see how it would go_.

Eventually, during the next commercial break, Tabitha spoke up: “... Um, about texting...”

He glanced at her in time to hear her finish, “... I’d be okay with jokes and maybe quick questions, I think. Just... no big convos, or ‘what are you up to right now’-type stuff.”

His brow ridges floated upwards in quizzical surprise. She knew he was still looking at her, but it still took him a minute to respond. “... ‘re ya sure?”

_She wasn’t, not a hundred percent, but..._ “... I’ll try it. If it ends up too much, I’ll let you know.”

… _How else would she know otherwise?_

He eyed her skeptically, but he didn’t question it, not out loud. “... okay. we’ll go back t’ just plans an’ pics if that ends up bein’ the case.” He gave her shoulder a tiny, barely-there squeeze. “... just don’t push yourself too soon, alright?”

Tabitha smiled and pressed her head into his hoodie. “I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -hhhhhhokay guys thanks for bearing with me on this one. i know it was really dialogue-heavy but hopefully the shorter (below 5k) chapter plus the comedy interspersed with character development was good anyway. it was certainly helpful for Tabs ;w;
> 
> \- plus y’know FINALLY HUGGING HOLY SHIT can’t hurt either ;D
> 
> … wonder what new steps she’s gonna do next time :3
> 
> slightly early update i know, but i broke my leg (hairline, but still, owwwwww) and whatever this healing process is doing to my body has thrown my sleep schedule out of whack entirely. like as in, once i DO go to bed there's no telling when i'll wake up for the day, just because my system has decided to not be insomniac for once in its life. (:  
> SOOOOO here we are, update when i KNOW it will still be timely-ish
> 
> lol Sans be like “y’all actually HAVE resources up here that we never had Underground, and you fucking WASTE and obliterate it, fuck” :<  
> (I hc that part of the job of Gaster and then Alphys from an engineering standpoint, in the vein of ‘inventions to make lives easier Underground’, is efficient use of resources. As in like, there’s no waste products, everything gets a use somehow.)
> 
> -the duct tape, though, is based on a true story. Three words: drunk college friends. i was the lucky person who’d taken the first-aid elective that semester who had to undo the “bandaging”.
> 
> see you next week, don’t forget to comment if you’re cool not being anon <3 need the verbal hugs to get through this paaaaain


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was high time she at least become aware of his magical abilities (what few he still used). He reminded himself – how could he expect her to let him in to help her, if he wouldn’t be somewhat open himself?

Sans was in heaven.

It had been a couple of weeks since he and Tabitha had re-hashed the boundaries of their budding relationship ( _holy shit he still couldn’t believe it_ ), and with those guidelines in place, Tabitha (his datemate, his _datemate,_ oh stars, he could actually _refer_ to her by that term now) had nothing short of bloomed in his presence.

There was a long ways to go still, sure. For one, she hadn’t spoken anything of her past yet, the things that had made her so fearful around him and afraid to _try_ this to begin with. She also hadn’t spoken about her family or friends aside from Robyn, and while she’d made mention of not having many loved ones to her name, Sans had to wonder what the impetus for her was to not talk about it.

And she also hadn’t once spoken about dancing, still.

But things being as they were, Sans was by no means in any sort of rush. They’d developed a little routine in the past nearly two weeks that he was incredibly pleased with: a couple of times a week he’d come over and they’d eat dinner, whether takeout or homemade (the meatloaf and mac ‘n cheese she’d made that first time was _so damn good_ , what the fuck, plus apparently meatloaf was traditionally dressed with ketchup – he’d nearly swooned at the thoughtfulness), talk about the jokes and such that he’d texted her since their last meeting, and watch TV on her couch. Lately it had been episodes of _Community –_ he’d had to agree with her on _The Big Bang Theory_ that despite the authenticity of the science references, which had impressed him!, the type of comedy didn’t sit quite right with him; and she’d then tried to introduce him to _Scrubs_ and while that one _was_ well-written he’d had to ask to change shows because of the blood (he hadn’t been quite ready for it, in spite of knowing it was a medical-based show – it just brought up too many unpleasant memories).

While they chuckled their asses off at the foibles of the many characters, she’d spend the whole evening curled up into his side in a warm, adorable, blanketed ball... and then they’d share a hug and a peck before he left for home.

It was perfection. This sort of easy companionship was what he had longed for the most to begin with.

Did he _eventually_ want more? Yes. Undoubtedly. But given how long he’d had to wait for even _this much_ , and knowing what a battle it had been for Tabitha and how much inner strength she’d had to come up with, he was perfectly happy waiting for anything else as long as he had _this_.

On the other hand... there were certain steps he could take now. She’d taken it upon herself to provide dinner and wine _every_ time thus far. He felt it was time to rectify that imbalance.

… Plus, it was high time she at least become aware of his magical abilities (what few he still used). He reminded himself, from their Q-and-A session a few weeks back – how could he expect her to let him in to help her, if he wouldn’t be somewhat open himself?

It was another Sunday, and he was due to hang out with her at her apartment again in a few hours. He’d slept in as custom, thankful that Papyrus hadn’t attempted to wake him before leaving for his dance studio for the day, and finally ambled out into the kitchen just before noon, still in a t-shirt and boxers, scratching his spine with a yawn and reaching for his usual mug to pour himself his first cup of coffee of the day.

Still bleary-socketed, he found the sticky note left conspicuously on his mug with his hand first:

_GOOD MORNING SANS!_

_YOU’RE WELCOME FOR LETTING YOU SLEEP_

_BEFORE YOUR DATE TONIGHT!_

_REMEMBER TO ASK ABOUT INTRODUCING_

_HER AND I!!!_

_-PAPYRUS_

… Sans blinked owlishly at the note, the umpteenth of its kind, before shaking his head and leaving it on the counter. _He would, he’d_ promised _, but he’d agreed to no specific terms about the when_. Plus, he had a bigger priority at the current moment: getting some stars-damned caffeine in his system.

A third helping of coffee, accompanied by toast with a side of ketchup, and his mind was finally in gear at last. That done, he began working on his _real_ task: thinking about how to dote on Tabitha a little, given all the effort she’d made for him.

_What sort of gesture would she appreciate?_ She liked blankets and houseplants, that much he knew, but she already had a surplus of each – the plants especially, considering how he’d learned that most of the plants she kept were self-propagating (the tendrils on the spider plants being the prime example – he’d been particularly intrigued by those) and she’d never be at a loss for more. And he didn’t feel confident enough in his knowledge of the wines available on the Surface to pick one out ~~nevermind that if it got back to Papyrus that he’d actually~~ ~~ _bought_ any, his brother would box his nonexistent ears in~~.

But on the subject of plants...

… _Would she like getting flowers, maybe...?_

-Sans had to take a moment to stop and laugh at himself. _Damn, this was getting serious if this was the first girl he’d considered getting such things for_.

Nonetheless, the self-depreciating observation wasn’t causing him to consider backing down from the idea. She hadn’t mentioned any food allergies, and knowing her love for it he’d be inclined to get her ice cream – but the distaste and dread she’d displayed on their first date with the Nice Creams informed him that getting her any without warning wasn’t the best of plans, and he wanted whatever he did today to be a _pleasant_ surprise.

_Hm._ … She was still on the skittish side about doing any more than they already were (not that he’d asked yet, not that he was going to). A whole bouquet might be too suggestive, too much.

But a single flower might just be enough to test the waters.

… Which now left him with another problem: _what to get?_

* * *

A few hours later, Sans stood outside the door to Tabitha’s apartment, a simple rose in his hand.

Nerves overwhelming him, he checked the text messages on his phone, scrolling back to where he’d tried to ask her about her preferences as casually as possible:

\- _cant believe i havent asked this yet, whats ur favorite color?_

-And her near-immediate reply of a peach emoji, followed by an exclamation mark.

He re-read the follow-up text she’d sent, clarifying that any near color of pink or orange would work as well. _Well, that explained the afghan she kept on the couch, at least_.

But the pickings were slim at the store he’d gone to, and that wasn’t the color of the rose he was holding. Had he planned this better, he might have had time to check more places; but he hadn’t, and he’d had to make do. He just hoped this one would suffice.

Among the stark whites and bright magentas and hot reds that had been available – they were even out of pale pink, somehow – there was but one that was any different: an interesting gradient, from yellowy-orange to an almost-red, that reminded him of the magical sunset they’d watched together on July Fourth. With any luck, it would evoke the same beautiful memory for her. At least he’d asked the lady behind the counter for a length of peach-shaded ribbon to tie in a bow around it.

_Please let it be good enough_.

He put his phone away and fixed the extra length of the ribbed paper ribbon into a loop for hanging. She’d already buzzed him in from the entrance to her building, so she knew he was on his way. He hung the single rose, with its green plastic tube of water on the end, on her doorknob.

Sans sighed, steadying himself.

Then he pushed the doorbell and shortcut to where the hallway turned a corner, hiding behind it.

Careful to turn his hat’s visor to the side so it wouldn’t stick out, he snuck his head past the corner’s edge just enough to see past it with one socket, and in a short moment he was rewarded with the _clack_ of Tabitha’s door opening, and the light from her living room streaming into the hallway.

His datemate ( _he’d never get enough of that term and realization, he didn’t think_ ) quizzically poked her head out, turning this way and that, before her ears registered the quiet tapping noises of the plastic water tube against her door, and looking down. He smirked to himself when he heard her gasp, and then the slight rustle of her lifting the ribboned rose off of the handle.

After a second’s contemplation, she stepped further into the hallway, rose still in hand, gaze searching down the length of the hall towards the direction she knew the stairwell to be in – _his_ direction. Now was his chance.

He shortcut back while she was still facing his way, making sure to appear behind her instead. Before she could be startled by the slight _pop_ of misplaced air, he quickly murmured:

“-hey tabs.”

Tabitha still jumped a mile high as she turned around to find Sans, grinning like a fool, leaning on one elbow on the wall to his side in an impossibly smug and suave fashion.

She rocked forward slightly, free hand covering her heart as if to ease its racing, even as her other hand still clutched the rose in it with whitened knuckles. The look on her face, though, told a different tale: eyes clenched shut, mouth open wide and turned up at the corners as she tried and failed to hold back the laughter that came roaring from her.

Sans waggled his brows deviously. “ _surprise_.”

She was still convulsing too hard to respond coherently just yet. “-Oh my _God_ ,” she finally choked out, trying to right herself, hand now going to her stomach to ease the cramps from her laughter.

“-heh, ya alright there?” Sans asked, a little afraid that he’d broken her. “... was it too much?” He pushed himself off of the wall, standing straight now, arms slightly stretched so as to be able to shoot farther forward if she began to topple.

“I-I’m o-okay,” she made out between chuckles, wiping the back of one hand into her eyes to clear the tears of mirth that had gathered. At last, she looked into his face. “-You goof. This is so sweet.”

“not as sweet ‘s you,” Sans retorted, starting to lean in.

“Flatterer-” Tabitha snorted out, before willingly allowing his teeth to meet her lips in a soft kiss that cut off her words.

Sans paid diligent attention to her emotional state, waiting only until the moment exactly prior to her becoming uncomfortable with the length of their kiss to break it off; but until she _did_ reach that point, he was going to keep it up for as long as ~~he~~ she wanted it. _Their first good, long kiss since the night of the fireworks – the longer it went, the better_.

His efforts ensured that Tabitha was still smiling dreamily when he pulled away to grin tenderly back at her. His thumb was caressing her cheek from where his palm cupped her jawline. “... heh. uh, we should prob’ly get inside so ya can get that ‘n some real water.”

“... Hehe, yeah.” She led the way, and Sans closed the door behind him while easing his heels out of his shoes one-by-one.

Tabitha turned back to him as he did so. “By the way, how did you know?”

Sans was confused. “-know what?”

“This is my favorite,” Tabitha continued, holding the ombre orange rose two-handed. “Did you ask Robyn or...?”

“i don’t have her number, doll,” Sans replied, starting to see the full picture but beginning to sweat under his cap anyway. “just... ya said ya like peach, but that was th’ closest they had, so that’s what i went with...”

… It didn’t encourage Sans that she simply started laughing all over again, waist bending forward enough to threaten losing her balance.

“-what is it?” he asked hurriedly and uneasily.

Once she had caught her breath _yet again_ a full minute later, Tabitha responded. “-So my favorite roses are actually the ‘sunset’ roses like this one. I know you probably got the rose because it’s standard, but it _is_ one of my favorite flowers, and this is my favorite color for them. More than pink or peach, even.”

“... huh. well. lucky break.” Relieved, Sans’ casual smile returned. “... there a flower ya like better?”

“Haha, perhaps a conversation for another day,” she teased, throwing him a sly glance over her shoulder as she moved to her kitchen.

He followed her like a needy puppy, bracing an elbow on the counter next to her as she got a vase from an upper cabinet. “-aww, c’mon. you can tell me, peach. i’m not gonna start overwhelmin’ ya with those, promise.”

She stopped short.

“... ‘ _Peach_ ’? Did you just call me-?!”

“-sure did,” he smirked. His sockets hooded as he edged his face closer to her, leering and playful. “figured it’d be a lil’ more personal.” His sockets opened wider. “... ‘nless ya don’t like it, of course.”

Now that her shock had worn off, though, he could see the rosiness that was shading her skin all the way to her strong jaw. The visible confirmation was eventually tailed by a verbal one, spoken so softly that he might not have heard it if he weren’t standing right there. “ _... I... I do like it.”_

__

He had to temper the smile that overtook him, lest his ecstasy ward her away. “... good.”

__

She slowly brought the skinny vase down to the counter, still overcome by the emotion and giddiness but careful not to drop the glass or let it shatter. Once it was safely grounded, she gripped it tightly in her hand, needing a physical outlet for everything she was mentally processing. Sans figured he’d better distract her from it, otherwise she might never move from that spot, rooted in her bashfulness.

__

“... anythin’ i can do t’ help?” he offered, lifting the rose that had been placed on the countertop and popping the green capsule off of the end. He then added: “... i assume we’re orderin’ out tonight?”

__

His questions brought Tabitha back down to earth. “-Yeah, we are... um, could we switch, and could you put cool water in this halfway, please?” she requested, handing him the tall bud vase and fetching a pair of scissors out of a drawer.

__

He obliged, letting her make a fresh cut on the bottom of the single stem and placing the filled vase back on the counter in time for her to slide the rose into it. As she dropped the scissors on the counter for later cleaning, he asked, “so, whatcha in th’ mood for for food tonight?”

__

Tabitha thought about it. “... The last time we had Mexican was when we went bowling, right? Would burritos be okay?”

__

“-hey, sounds great t’ me, peach.”

__

A furious blush covered her again as she snatched a paper menu out of where she kept all of her delivery pamphlets and handed it to him, then walked off with the rose in its new vase to find a home for it. He allowed himself a tiny smirk before he opened the tri-folded menu to browse.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QwQ “peach”  
>  _even his new pet name for her is punny, damn_
> 
> also here have a TON of Sans’ perspective since i’ve been lopsided/neglecting him for a bit :>
> 
> -tryin’ SO FRIGGIN’ HARD to shorten my chappys a bit, hope it helps.  
> i mean, this adorable event ~~no i totally did not squee while writing this~~ is diabeetus-level enough to stand on its own anyway, i think. :P
> 
> another early-ish update, not so ridiculously early as last week, but w/e. the fractured leg has sort of "plateaued" in the healing process and i'm off of pain meds for just laying around, but it still HURTS to walk, wtf. doc ordered a new xray, hopefully that can tell us more.  
> otoh... I live on a second-floor apartment, no elevators, and hiking back up the stairs on crutches after every doctor's appointment is starting to get downright exhausting. @_@ blehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
> 
> see y’all next wk, pls kudos/comment, it helps <3 <3 <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “-yeah, we can totally do that,” Sans affirmed, “... but, uh, i wanted to talk t’ ya about somethin’, first.”
> 
> Tabitha nodded seriously, folding her hands into her lap and settling in her seat.
> 
> … Okay, she was game. Let’s just hope this move on his part helped things along.

A short while later, they were seated on the couch, having picked out their meals and Tabitha having put the mobile order in for later delivery, paying by card. Sans willed himself to not be bothered by her covering their dinner yet again, tonight, and for the discontent to not show on his features. _One convo bomb at a time, buddy. One at a time._

Once she put her phone in her pocket again, she turned to him with a smile. “-So, more ‘Community’? Continue where we left off?”

“-yeah, we can totally do that,” Sans affirmed, “... but, uh, i wanted to talk t’ ya about somethin’, first. – nothin’ bad,” he interjected at her brief expression of panic, “just, uh, y’know, some shit about me that’s come up in the past that i figure i should talk t’ ya about.”

Tabitha calmed, but her look was supplanted by one of concern. “-Um, that’s okay, you don’t have to share anything you don’t want to...”

“-but this one, i do,” he assured her, internally joyous at her consideration. _Always giving him the same leeway he’d been trying to show her about her past, she was such a damn sweetheart._ “... i mean, it’s bound to come up eventually, an’ somethin’ like this, it’s better sooner rather than later. – s’long as you’re okay talkin’ about it, that is.”

Tabitha nodded seriously, folding her hands into her lap and settling in her seat.

… Okay, she was game. _Let’s just hope this move on his part helped things along._

Sans took a deep, slow breath. Not that he needed to, but even so, the conscious act had always helped him compose himself. “... so, uh... well, heh, obviously, i’m a monster, and, uh, heh, well, that means i’ve got magic. so, uh... you’ve probably heard different monsters have different magic, so, i think it’s time ya got a primer on _my_ magic, at least.”

“... Oh. Okay!” Much more at ease, Tabitha rested her forearms on her thighs, listening studiously.

“... heh, alright. so...” Sans gulped. _Don’t fuck this up._ “... for starters, uh, i’m one of th’ stronger species. not a boss monster necessarily, but, uh, there’s a bunch of stuff i can do that ya might not find elsewhere. for ‘xample...”

He stood and moved to the middle of the room, motioning for her to stay on the couch when she began to rise herself. He found a place left of center, lining himself up with the end of the coffee table closer to the apartment door. “... alright, don’t blink.”

Tabitha seemed perplexed, but obeyed. Sans smirked...

… and in a burst of visual static, suddenly reappeared five feet to his right.

Tabitha startled, back straightening suddenly and eyes as big as dinner plates, and Sans couldn’t help but chuckle. “-so yeah, ‘shortcuts’, as i like t’ call ‘em. i can do ‘em in my line of sight, no matter how far-off as long ‘s i can _see_ it, or i can also recall certain locations i’ve been to. like ‘bookmarks’, if ya will.” He shuffled from one foot to the other. “... heh, it’s, uh, how i hid from ya, before, when i first got here an’ put the rose on th’ door. ‘cut behind the corner to the hall, an’ back behind ya.”

“-Hehe, I see! ... It looks a lot like teleporting,” Tabitha, a little calmer now, remarked.

“heh, well, yes an’ no. it’s not really the same, given that it’s a little more tied to specific spots. but the other thing about ‘em is, i can take anythin’ i’m carrying, or any _one_ , so long ‘s they’re in contact with me.” He grinned slyly. “like, if ya wanted to, on a whim or somethin’, i could take your hand an’ we could be at grillby’s in two seconds.” He shrugged genially, hands leaving his pockets and now at shoulder-level. “no need t’ pay for a parkin’ spot.”

Tabitha giggled at his joke. “Of _course_ that’s one of the places you’ve ‘bookmarked’.” Then she sobered a bit. “... Your, um, eye changed color, though...?”

“-yeah, that’s a thing that happens. my left eye lights blue, my right goes dark.” Accessing his SOUL just enough ~~because if he did any more without channeling it into something it would risk disobeying him and~~ ~~ _singing_~~ ~~for him and that would be~~ ~~ _extremely poor_~~ ~~timing~~ , he displayed the change in his eye to her again, observing her curiously peering at the phenomenon. “-happens every time i use magic.”

She seemed reassured by that. “... So it’s pretty easy to tell when you’re doing anything, then?”

“yep.” With a gentler smile, he let the calling-forth of his magic resolve into another shortcut, this time back to his spot on the couch, dropping into place on the cushions and catching her by surprise. “-heh, easy there.”

“-Sorry, just got me off guard,” Tabitha admitted ashamedly.

“nah, i know, doll. just tryin’ t’ soothe your nerves. i know it tends t’ shock people by default.” He leaned forward onto his femurs again. “-another thing i’m gonna tell ya about, which i’m _not_ gonna demonstrate, is called, uh, ‘blue magic’. it’s soul-based, so it only works on anythin’ that’s got one. but if i get a hold of ‘em with the magic...” His fist clenched in his lap involuntarily. “... i can essentially change their personal gravity. make it stronger so they stay ‘n place, change its direction so they float up or t’ the side.”

“... I’ve heard of color magic before.” Tabitha’s own fingers were tightening into themselves, as well. “... I haven’t heard of all the type differences, but, um... aren’t there _two_ kinds of blue?”

“-oh, so ya _do_ know a little more than average. heh, not that i doubted ya might. you’re pretty smart after all.” Sans’ smile seemed to relax her, and he continued. “... yeah, this’d be the darker one. er, well, it’s, uh, actually cyan, ‘patience’, but it's colored a little by my integrity trait. uh... if ya wanna learn more ‘bout it all at some point, i’d be happy t’ teach ya.”

“... I’d like that. Learning about you is probably enough for today, though.” She beamed genuinely, and he could sense her _gratitude_ and _interest_ and _admiration_ even as he tried not to let his magic rise prominently into his cheekbones to stain them the same blue as his eye had been.

“-eheheh, yeah, uh, probably.” A lone hand came up to rub at the back of his cervical vertebrae. “... ‘specially considerin’ we ain’t quite done. i mean, i’m not gonna show ya any of the shit i’d _fight_ with,” he stated flatly, being as candid as he absolutely cared to – but only because it was _her_ ; he’d never have even _mentioned_ this shit if it had been anyone else. “ _that_ i hope to not ever have t’ use again ‘round _anybody_ if i can help it. and there’s, uh, of course stuff that _every_ monster has, not just me.” _Which wouldn’t get mentioned either, because that was dancing_. “... but, uh, ‘s far as _i’m_ concerned, that still leaves the one last thing.”

This was it. _Don’t Fuck This Up._

“... i can manifest certain, uh, _things_. parts, a-as needed. for one...”

Carefully, he let his eye light up again, and then, he opened his mandible enough for his summoned tongue to wiggle into view.

Tabitha drew in an _extremely_ sharp breath of air, hands flying up to cover her own mouth.

Sans immediately desummoned his magic and let the conjured anatomy disappear. “- _crap_ , i’m sorry, that was probably too much-”

“-No,” Tabitha gently interrupted. “I... … a _tongue_?”

Sans tried to unwind. _See?, she wasn’t freaked out, just surprised._ He gave an (anxious) smile as he entertained her questioning. “yep, h-heh.”

“... If you don’t have one normally...” She seemed lost in thought. “... How do you _eat_ , then?”

 _-So_ that _was her concern._ Sans nearly lost it. “-heheheheheh! heh, that’s a little complicated. not that i wouldn’t be happy t’ explain, but, heh, it’s a question of how much time ya wanna spend on it right now, tonight.”

“... But you _can_ eat human food without issues, right?” she pressed, worries clearly not yet allayed.

“-wouldn’tve been eatin’ with ya all this time, wouldn’t i?” he pointed out, his smile also as genuine as it was meant to put her mind at ease. He waved a hand to his side. “nah, i’m fine. i ‘ppreciate ya thinkin’ about me, but i’m good on that one.”

Tabitha gulped visibly, trying to settle herself. “... Okay.” She withdrew a bit back to where she’d been originally sitting. Her fingers knotted into the fabric of her sweatpants.

He could still feel _anxiety_ and _guilt_ and a good dose of _intrigue_ wafting off of her.

… It was enough for him, for now. That particular seed, heh, should at least have been planted. Didn’t want to spend the whole night on this, right? Not when there were laughs and snuggles to be had.“... so, uh, yeah. some other day when you’re ready, ask me an’ i’ll talk about it some more.” He reclined back into the couch. “... meanwhile, uh... more ‘community’?”

“... Yeah. That’d be good.” She pulled closer to him, towing her usual blanket and the remote along with her as she came to stop in her usual spot at his side.

He lazily slung an arm around her shoulders, his equally usual arrangement, with a wide grin.

It didn’t take him long to settle into that comfy, routine pose with her. She’d snuggled against him so deeply, her neck tucked into the crook of his shoulder, the back of her head resting on the outside of his clavicle. Occasionally, as the episodes wore on (she used a streaming service that saved their place without having to think about it too hard), he’d let his phalanges that surrounded her give her upper arm a soft squeeze or a light scritch.

 _It felt like home_.

… But Sans couldn’t help but notice that Tabitha’s attention wasn’t ever really on the television. Even when their food arrived, she seemed to pick at it slowly, barely getting through half of it by the time he had finished his entire burrito.

Afraid that he had upset her or perturbed her somehow, he empathically sensed her emotions, only to be _more_ baffled by what he read: _shyness, curiosity, dread, embarrassment..._

… _desire??!_

He’d had enough. Using the arm around her to give her a small hug, just enough to pull her attention towards him, he asked: “... alllllright, what’s _eatin’_ ya?”

Tabitha blinkingly exited her trance, looking up at him with a start. “... Did you just-”

“-yeah, i punned.” His grin subsided into a worried frown. “... you’ve hardly eaten. everythin’ okay?”

“-Oh! Um, just... distracted a little, that’s all.” She made a point of turning back to face the television and taking a large bite of her food.

He raised a suspicious brow at her. “... somethin’ on your mind, doll?”

She stiffened a little _too_ quickly. “-No, no! I’m alright!”

… Sans sighed. Releasing his arm around her, he stretched forward, one hand going to the remote and grabbing it and hitting the “pause” button during its return trip, the other that had been holding her close adjusting itself to lay on the couch behind her shoulder instead.

“-sorry, wanna make sure you’re really okay.” He twisted himself just enough to be able to look her in the eye, projecting an expression of caring and patience. “- _you call the shots,_ peach. if there’s _anything_ that i’m doin’ or _not_ doin’, _please ask me_. i’m here to listen. _no judgement._ ”

-She’d been making eye contact with him, but she hastily glanced away, hesitant. Her eyes landed on the coffee table, seeming determined to find something on its surface more interesting or important that this conversation.

- _embarrassment curiosity desire_

 _He had to convince her to feel able to use her voice with him._ It was a large part of why _he_ was trying to start being open with her on as much as he could, after all.

Sans moved his face a little closer. He spoke carefully. “... _is there somethin’_ ya wanna ask me?”

This time, Tabitha shut her eyes, her fingers digging into her sweatpants and gripping tightly.

… Just like she’d done with her sweater at Grillby’s, when she’d wanted to talk to him after he’d confessed that his feelings weren’t going away.

He smiled, soft and reassuring. His voice came in a murmur. “... hey. would it help if ya, i dunno... kept your eyes closed an’ just, y’know, spit it out?”

Her own voice shuddered. “-M-m-maybe?”

“... okay.” Observing the whole while to see if the action was welcome, he laid one hand over hers at her knee – _she didn’t pull away, thank goodness –_ and waited for her to finish an exhale before coaching her. “... breathe in, _and_...”

“- _I wanna kiss you._ ”

… That was it? Sans chuckled gently. “-heh, aww, peach, all ya had t’ do was ask.”

His hand on her knee came up to stroke at her cheek instead – but she cut him off: “-No, not just – I mean – _yeah_ , I’ve wanted to do that more since the Fourth, but – um...”

-The realization of what she was referring to, and why it was being brought up _now,_ crashed down on Sans as though a ton of bricks had just been unloaded onto him from a dump truck three stories up.

_Oh._

_Tongue_.

His phalanges disconnected from her face in surprise, his eyelights extinguished. Her own eyes were still staunchly sealed, as if unwilling to witness any potential negative reaction from him.

It took him a second, but he trained his expression into something much more welcoming, and placed a palm on each side of her jawline. Only then did he speak: “... look at me?”

The poor thing seemed _terrified_ to do so, but she did. Sans couldn’t quite be sure whether his eyelights were back in his sockets – if he had to guess, they were, but were blown up in size from his _absolute euphoria and hope –_ but he kept progressing, careful _, careful_. _He had to make sure._

“-tabs, i will gladly do that if that is what you want. but i know you’ve seen some shit, so i just want t’ make sure. … you’re _sure_ you’re not pushin’ yourself too fast?”

The blush flowering rapidly on her face answered him even before the nod of her head did.

His head bowed, eyes still meeting hers. “... this is what ya want?”

Shy, _so very very shy_ , she nodded.

… He nodded back. “... okay, peach.”

* * *

Ever since the moment Sans had displayed his tongue ( _holy shit how did he even_ have one _, he was a goddamn skeleton – okay a_ magic _skeleton who could blink his sockets and move his subraorbital ridges or the joints at his mandible and maxilla to approximate expressions and move without having muscles and talk without a voice box, maybe she could suspend her disbelief on this one too_ ) to Tabitha, she’d wanted to feel that bright blue glowing appendage on her own.

The thought nearly disgusted her. _Shouldn’t she not want these things again?_ All throughout the evening she was at war with herself, fighting between her propriety and her sense of _she should not want or need this, why does this even_ excite _you what does that_ say _about you that you feel a need for this despite everything that happened before_ against the mantras that Robyn had been working so hard and long to instill in her mind that _you should allow yourself to enjoy this good thing._ The anxiety surrounding it had caused her to all but ignore her dinner, the nervous butterflies in her stomach preventing her from feeling able to take bites at a normal pace without tossing them back up.

When Sans had ripped her from her internal maelstrom using _the same goddamn pun Robyn liked to use holy shit_ , and then wrestled the confession out of her with such _caring and understanding words_ and reassurances that it would all be fine, in an echo of Robyn’s own affirmations, that she was finally pulled in one direction over the other, and gave in to the urge to _try and see_.

Besides... this one _was_ something that she hadn’t really gotten before, despite wanting it then.

Her heart still practically stopped when he gave his assent, after _checking that she was well and truly okay with it, the utter gentleman, she ~~loved~~ appreciated that perhaps more than he’d ever know_, and leaned his skull towards her, the blue flare of his one eye visible for a nanosecond before his sockets closed (and she’d _never_ admit how that brief, tantalizing sight made her quiver in anticipation).

His last, breathy words before closing in completely were: “... if ya need to stop _at any point_ , please let me know. i won’t get upset. promise.”

_And then it happened._

At first he’d pressed his teeth to her lips again, beginning with that same slow, sweet, gasping kiss that he hadn’t done since a few weeks ago, her only able to discern flat bone even as it moved so enticingly against her for the first minutes.

But then she felt the motions of what was _definitely_ a tongue on her mouth, asking, _offering_ courteously, and, unwilling to refuse her wants, she parted her lips open for him.

He immediately entered as soon as she did, probing gently, and his caring and soft gestures led her to yield quickly, leaving room for him to make good on his intentions. He delivered, his tongue slithering in to caress and lick at hers before exploring the rest of her mouth with delicate undulations.

The supernatural extremity made its way through every corner, occasionally returning to tenderly lavish attention on her own tongue and curl around it coaxingly, never pushing too hard or fast and giving her plenty of warning on where he was going. She could taste the wind coming off of the sea in him; fresh and salt, heady and crisp, a very faint undercurrent of tomato-y tang below the invigorating oceanic essence. The contented sighs he let into her mouth were just as evocative of the same rush of wind, or of a river rapids; that not-yet-kinetic energy on the eternal precipice of readiness to unleash itself but still being dammed back, the way he seemed to be holding back with her.

She hadn’t immediately noticed one of his hands circling to her upper back, between her shoulder blades, and the other to the back of her head, drawing her ever nearer with his warm touch, only registering their presence when they were already in place. Nor had she noticed right away how his phalanges were combing through the strands of her hair slowly, nor had she noticed when her heart had started beating again, now thundering within her chest.

But Tabitha decided, once again, that it was _very much worth_ continuing to take those little forward steps with Sans.

… And as for Sans?

Well.

Sans considered himself borderline _foolish_ for thinking he was in heaven before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy have even MORE Sans ;D
> 
>  _cmon Tabs bby u can do this_  
>  [have you spotted the same nervous tells of hers that Sans has yet?? ;)]
> 
> -my damn heart Sans checking in at every damn step because _he’s not allowing himself to fuck this up he wants no NEEDS this to go well for him and he’s gonna keep things on as tight a leash as he can so he can control the starsdamned outcome_
> 
> so as i said in the overall summary for the fic, that one week's break proved very helpful - my ankle's significantly better, and i'm OFF CRUTCHES YAY 8D  
> ... still on a cane, but _hey i'll frickin take it dammit_  
>  so!, i'm able to headspace for writing again now that i'm not in so much pain and have so much to do to take care of myself, which is good. but i'm still going to give myself the opportunity to catch up in a SANE fashion. so i'm going to be updating again, but every other week instead of every week, just to give myself that fighting chance to have SOME type of buffer back for more one-off situations.
> 
> i appreciate you guys' patience and support with this process, it has been NUTS @_@ especially those who comment, to tell me your thoughts and what you noticed or even just to scream and d'aww at it!!, you guys give me life and i'm so so so so grateful. <3 <3 <3
> 
> see y’all in two weeks, don’t forget to comment and kudos if ya wanna <3


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